


strangers

by waveydnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Depression, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Smut, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 101,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14247159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: dan is new to london and living in a mostly empty flat, desperate to forget the mistakes of his past. he's all alone -- until one day he gets a piece of mail addressed to someone in the neighbouring flat, one mr. philip lester. he can't exactly not return it, can he?





	1. Chapter 1

The back of his head is damp against his pillow. He can feel it and it’s gross because he knows it’s sweat and he also knows he’s not going to do anything about it anytime soon. He’s not going to wash that pillowcase today or tomorrow and it’s just going to get more saturated with the perspiration that clings to his curls.

It’s gross, but he can’t quite muster up enough energy to say he really gives a fuck. There’s almost something comforting about the fact that it really doesn’t matter at all. It doesn’t matter how wet his bed is against his bare skin or that he doesn’t really have any furniture or any food in his fridge. It doesn’t matter because it’s just him. He’s alone.

He doesn’t have the energy to be upset about it right now. He just lies here crossways on his bed in his pants with his legs up against the exposed brick of the wall while the sunlight streams in through the dirty window on the other side of the flat. No one’s going to tell him to get up and get his shit together.

He slides his thumb under the waistband of his pants. The material is moist and itchy against his skin. He should just take them off. Or maybe he could get up and have a shower like a functional adult would do. He could get dressed and go down to the shops and buy a fan. He could strip his sheets and take them downstairs to the laundry.

He does none of this. He hooks both thumbs under the band and pulls til they’re loose around his thighs. He’s too lazy to even bring his legs down from their perch against the wall to remove them fully. 

His dick is small and soft but he takes it in his hand and pulls at the wrinkled skin until it starts to swell. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. He doesn’t even really have anything good to think about anymore when he does this. His laptop is dead and he can’t be arsed to get up and find the charger. He could watch porn on his phone he supposes, but the thought just makes him sad, and that’s exactly what he’s trying to not to feel right now.

That’s exactly why he wanks all throughout the day, until there’s nothing left in his balls and his dick is sore. It’s free and takes no effort and distracts him for as long as he can keep it up. He doesn’t have to work today so there’s really nothing but this, the pull in the pit of stomach as he drags his thumb across the wetness of the tip of the head. 

He shuffles over so the little yellow squares of light reflecting through the panes of glass hit his chest. It fucking burns and he can feel new sweat forming on his brow almost instantly but it’s good. It feels good. He can almost pretend it’s the heat of another body on top of him.

The image of her swims behind his eyelids eventually, again, always. In spite of every effort to keep her out, she always appears eventually. It’s going to hurt later but he’s pretty much given up resisting the memories of her body when he’s hard in his hands. He’ll never get over her at this rate.

He’d swear he can still taste her, still feel the softness of her silky folds on his tongue. He pictures her face and squeezes his cock and tries to pretend it’s her walls contracting around him instead. He tries to remember the last time they kissed.

He can’t. He can’t fucking remember.

He tugs mercilessly and comes a few minutes later. It barely even feels good. 

He swipes at the come on his belly with his wrist and smears it against the sheets. Maybe that will force him to wash them.

He pulls his pants back up over his sticky softening cock. He doesn’t feel better and he only killed ten minutes. As lazy as he is, as much as he thinks he likes a lie in, he really wishes he had work today.

He wallows for another hour before the dried come and his sweaty skin force him up and into the shower. The cold water honestly feels better than anything has in a good while. He takes his time lathering sweet smelling soap over every inch of his long body, trying not to think of all the showers they’d taken together over the years. 

He doesn’t even bother wrapping a towel around himself when he gets out. He stands in front of the bathroom mirror and stares at himself as he drips dry. He looks the same. He wonders how he can still look the same when he no longer has a beating heart inside his chest.

He brushes his teeth, sprays himself with some deodorant, rubs his hand over his jaw and wonders if he should shave. He won’t of course, because he hardly ever needs to, but he still wonders. Still hopes one of these days he’ll start to look like an actual man and not a prepubescent boy. 

Now that his skin is cool and not tacky with sweat, he has to admit to himself that he feels a little better. He promises himself he won’t get back into that bed before the sheets are washed. He’s up and he’s clean--that’s half the battle. He rummages through his dresser and finds his last clean pair of pants. That settles it, really. He definitely needs to do his fucking laundry today. 

 

He sits on top of the machine as it goes through the spin cycle. He probably crammed it too full, but he doesn’t want to have to pay for a second wash. He also doesn’t want to  _ wait _ for a second wash. He’s not even going to wait or pay to put this stuff in the dryer. It’s hot enough in his flat that he can just drape his shit over the few pieces of furniture he has and they’ll dry in a matter of hours. 

The hum of the machine kind of feels good on his ass as he sits there and tries to read whatever book his boss had recommended to him. That’s what he does now that he works at a used book store--brings home books he doesn’t care about and forces himself to read them, because at least then he’s not thinking about her. 

When his things are washed he stuffs them into his hamper and drags them up the stairs and into the lobby where the mailboxes are. It takes him a minute to even remember the number of his flat. Maybe he should get his mail more often, but it’s almost never anything he cares about. Just bills and discounts for delivery pizza.

Actually, maybe the pizza discounts come in handy sometimes.

There’s more in there than usual. He grabs the handful of paper and drops it on top of his wet laundry and heads for the lift.

It’s so hot up on the eighteenth floor he can feel the sweat starting to form again already as he steps into his flat and closes the door behind him. He really needs to get a fan. 

He tosses the mail onto the kitchen counter and dumps his laundry unceremoniously onto the floor. He picks it up piece by piece, draping them over the tiny little table and its rickety little chair, the bookshelf that’d been left by the previous tenants, even his keyboard. He runs out of space quickly and has to resort to using the kitchen counters and even the stove but eventually everything is hung up on something. Maybe he should get a dry rack of some kind too.

It’s not like he can’t afford it. He still has some money left over from the proper job in Manchester he’d run away from like his life depended on it. His money is one of the only things he has left from that life, and he honestly wishes he could get rid of that too. 

So he clings to the momentum he’s built up and slams some coffee and heads out before he loses his nerve. He’s lived in this flat long enough that there’s really no excuse for how bare it still is.

 

He’s a sweaty mess again by the time he returns, but he’s managed to drag home a fan and a dry rack and even a few groceries. The first thing he does is set up the fan and pull off his damp shirt and sit in front of the blowing air until the moisture on his chest has dried.

He puts away his groceries and then his laundry and even makes his bed. He’s almost feeling proud of himself as he goes to the kitchen to eat some of that food he’d bought. He leans against his kitchen counter and thumbs through his mail as he waits for his bread to toast.

Of course it’s all ads and bills. He’s about to toss it all into the bin when his eye catches a name on one of the bills. A name that isn’t his.

_ Mr. Philip Lester. Apt 1803 _

So it’s his neighbour’s mail and the delivery guy had slipped it into the wrong box. He’ll eat his toast and then return it like the responsible citizen he is.

 

It’s a couple days later before he remembers he still has that mail that doesn’t belong to him. He’s got to return it before he forgets again.

He throws on some clothes because it’s probably still frowned upon to walk the halls in nothing but a pair of tight black pants. He puts on the first things he can find--a pair of black shorts and a black t-shirt. His shorts are probably a little too short but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to be pulling them back off in approximately forty five seconds.

He thinks about just slipping the bill under the door. Human interaction is not his forte, and he’d really rather not deal with it today, but he’s strangely paranoid that whoever inhabits this flat will think he’d been up to something shady, so he knocks.

The man who answers is younger than he’d expected--a lot younger. Philip Lester sounds too dusty a name for the attractive face that smiles at him as he holds out the letter. 

“This was in my mailbox. Are you Philip?”

“Phil,” says the stranger, accepting it. “Cheers.” His voice is husky. Deep. Not entirely unappealing.

“And you are?”

“Dan.”

Phil holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, mate.”

Their hands slot together and Dan feels something like static. Phil’s hand is warm and soft and inexplicably  _ right _ wrapped around his. 

“You too.” Dan drops his hand. He’s about to turn around and go back to his apartment.

“Wanna come in?”

That’s weird. That’s not normal, Dan thinks. He’s probably a serial killer or something. Who does that? Who invites a stranger into their flat for no reason?

Dan looks at him a moment. His hair is silly. He still has the same haircut Dan had when he was fifteen and it’s box-dyed jet black, skimming a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

“Sure,” is what Dan says and he doesn’t know why. Maybe he just has a thing for big blue eyes.

Phil’s flat is a small bachelor just like Dan’s, but at least it actually has furniture. Dan follows him into the kitchen. Phil doesn’t say anything so neither does Dan. It doesn’t  _ look _ like the home of a murderer but who knows.

Dan just stands there feeling awkward as Phil opens his fridge and pulls out some ribena. He mixes the drinks and hands one to Dan. He leans back against his counter and watches Dan drink, still silent.

Dan drains the cup before either of them have spoken a word. He hands it back to Phil and says, “Thanks.”

“I’ve never seen you before,” Phil muses. “You just move in?”

“Kind of. Few months ago.”

Phil nods. “You busy right now?”

Dan shakes his head. This situation is weird as fuck and by all accounts he should be itching to run away. But he isn’t. He wants to stay.

Phil smiles and waves his hand for Dan to follow him.

They go into Phil’s lounge. Phil puts something in his blu ray player and sits on his sofa, patting the space next to him. Dan sits, leaving a respectable amount of space between them. 

Phil erases that space instantly, pressing his thigh against Dan’s. He’s wearing shorts too, and they’re just as short as Dan’s. Maybe even a little bit shorter. His legs are pale and hairier than Dan’s. He’s wearing mismatched socks over long feet. 

David Attenborough’s voice fills the flat then, and images of various African wildlife tearing each other to bits dance across the screen. 

Dan’s not really watching. He’s focused on the feeling of Phil’s calf pressed up against his. 

It’s hot in this flat too. It’s just so bloody hot in London right now.

Phil yawns and stretches his arms up in the air, and when they come back down, one is draped across the back of the sofa. Behind Dan.

Dan knows this is fucking bizarre. He knows it. And yet, he wishes Phil’s arm was resting against his shoulders. His skin feels strange. Like it’s tingling. 

What it actually is is sweating. He runs a hand through his hair and it’s definitely damp. His curls are probably a frizzy mess. Somehow Phil’s hair looks smooth and shiny. It’s buzzed short around the ears, just like Dan’s is. 

There’s a camera sat atop a tripod in the corner of the room. 

Dan feels Phil’s fingers brushing his shoulder. He turns his head and looks at him and he’s already looking at Dan, rubbing slow circles on Dan’s shoulder blade. He raises his eyebrows like he’s asking Dan if it’s ok.

Dan answers by placing his own hand on Phil’s thigh. He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. He doesn’t even know this guy. He wonders if Phil can tell that his cock is half hard in his shorts. 

As if he can literally hear Dan’s thoughts, Phil’s eyes drift downward. He smirks. Dan has the nearly uncontrollable urge to pull his dick out and see if Phil would still be smirking then.

He fights it, but he does give Phil’s thigh a squeeze. Phil drops his arm down so it sits heavy across Dan’s shoulders. Dan fists the soft material of Phil’s shorts in his hand. His fingers ache to slip inside. It’s been a long time since he had another man’s cock in his hand. 

Too long, he thinks. He’s been sad and alone for too long. He’s just a fucking cliche now, heart stomped to pieces by a pretty girl. That’s not him, that was never supposed to be him. He was the kind of almost cool, sexually ambiguous nerd after all. He wasn’t supposed to end up like this. He’s too young to be  _ this _ lonely.

Although, come to think of it, this is the first time she’s even crossed his mind since he knocked on Phil’s door, and even now he’s not pining. Just lamenting how many years it’s been since he felt come on his skin that didn’t belong to him. 

Dan’s phone rings and they both jump. It’s his mum. He stands up, whatever spell he’d been under seemingly broken as he remembers just how odd it is that he’d nearly had his hands in a stranger’s shorts. 

“I should go,” he mumbles.

Phil stands too. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Dan really should laugh as the door is only about twenty feet away but he just nods. Phil opens the door for him. Dan turns to say goodbye, his phone still ringing in his pocket. 

Phil reaches up and brushes Dan’s hair off his dewy forehead. Dan should be embarrassed that Phil undoubtedly has his sweat on the tips of his fingers now but Phil’s face says he’s not bothered.

“What number is your flat?” Phil’s voice is deep, so deliciously deep. 

“1805,” Dan croaks.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Dan nods. He really fucking hopes so. 

That night when he lies naked in his bed and touches himself, he definitely has something good to think about.


	2. Chapter 2

Days pass. He goes to work, reluctantly returns his mum’s call, lies in bed and sweats and reads and wanks. Sometimes he remembers to eat, sometimes he doesn’t.

He thinks about Phil a lot. He thinks about the crackle in the air as they sat on his sofa and watched a pride of lions eating an antelope. He comes apart at the memory of Phil’s thumb stroking his shoulder, the firmness of his thigh under his shorts.

He tries to hold on to those memories, keep them vivid and present, but days pass, a week and he doesn’t see him again and it starts to get cloudy. He’s starting to think it was all a dream. Just some wishful thinking that he could meet a gorgeous stranger who seems to want him for no real reason. A stranger he feels like he knows, with no rational explanation.

It’s still hot. He sets up the fan near his bed but it doesn’t help that much. He opens the window and listens to the sounds of the city filtering in. Sun filters in too, bright and hot and it burns his skin.

He accepts that it must have been a dream. It had felt like one anyway. His whole life feels like a dream right now. Not a nightmare, but not a good one either. One where everything is hazy. Nothing feels real anymore. London doesn’t get hot like this. London doesn’t get sun like this. Dan has friends and a good job and a girlfriend and reasons to wake up in the morning. This can’t be real. This can’t be his life.

There’s a big window on the other side of his flat. It takes up most of the wall and there’s a ledge the perfect size for his six foot body to sit on, to stretch his legs out in the sun. It’s the only nice thing about this place. He drags his ass out of bed most days just to relocate there, drinking coffee and watching the people below him live their busy lives.

It’s dirty because he never cleans it, just like everything else in this place, but he kind of likes it. It makes him feel more like an artistic recluse and less like the cripplingly broken shell that he is right now.

He still takes his pills. He sees a new therapist now he lives in a new city. He doesn’t like her as much as the old one, but it’s better than nothing and he doesn’t care enough to try to find someone better. She tells him to meditate. He tries. He sits on the ledge of his big dirty window and tries to empty his mind.

It never, never works. Usually it’s just her. So many memories of her, and them, and the way things used to be.

Today it’s Phil, and his black hair and blue eyes and big feet. Today it’s the thrill he’d felt when their hands touched.

He pulls out his phone and calls to make an appointment. It’s been a few weeks which is too long, and he’s actually genuinely a little afraid he’s going mad now. He should go out, go for a walk, breathe in something other than the stale air that cycles through his empty apartment.

He puts on a white t-shirt and the same shorts as that day last week and forces himself out. It’s hot but at least he can feel breeze blowing through his curls, cooling the tacky skin on the back of his neck.

He’s not been walking more than a minute before he hears a deep voice right behind him. “Hey.”

He turns with a start. It’s Phil. Fucking Phil. He was real after all.

“Hey,” Dan says. “You following me, mate?”

Phil smiles. Dan wishes he could see those ocean eyes in the sunlight, but they’re hidden behind an expensive looking pair of ray bans.

Phil shrugs coyly. “Maybe. Would that bother you?”

“No.”

“So, where are we going, then?”

Dan shrugs. “Just walking.”

So they walk. They walk for an hour in the heat and the sun. Beads of sweat trickle down Dan’s face every so often and he tries to wipe them away discreetly. He steals looks at Phil every chance he can. Maybe to make sure he’s actually there, or maybe just because he’s hot. Maybe both.

They don’t talk. They don’t say a single word to each other, but Phil matches the strides of Dan’s legs and they stay right beside each other as they weave through the crowds of people pounding the same pavement.

Phil grabs Dan’s hand at one point and pulls him into a Starbucks. Dan’s mortified at the slipperiness of his palm against Phil’s but Phil smiles and murmurs, “You’re so hot.”

He orders them iced coffees and they sit under an umbrella on the patio to drink them. Phil pushes his sunglasses up onto his head and looks at Dan. Dan looks back. Intently.

It should feel awkward. For all intents and purposes, Phil is a stranger, and he’s staring at Dan unwaveringly. Right in the eyes. He feels like he’s being sized up, but somehow it doesn’t feel intimidating. It feels good. It feels good to be looked at again.

By the time they return to their building and step into the lift the tension in Dan’s body is nearly unbearable. Phil stands across from him with his arms folded over his chest. He’s still looking at Dan, but this time his eyes rake over Dan’s body.

Dan’s returning the favour wholeheartedly. Phil is long and slender but his arms look strong and his shoulders are broad. His shoes are white and his jeans are black and his t-shirt clings to his chest in a way that has Dan aching to just pull it off.

He shouldn't be having thoughts like that, but he is and it looks like Phil is too. The lift dings and the doors open and Dan follows Phil out. Phil stops outside his door, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. Dan’s about to open his mouth to say goodbye or something, to go home and work out this tension when Phil turns and says, “You busy right now?”

Dan shakes his head, doesn’t even bother trying to convince himself this is a bad idea. He hasn’t done anything this impulsive in ages, and it’s making him feel alive in a way he didn’t know he’d ever be able to again.

“Wanna come in?”

“Sure.”

Phil unlocks the door and opens it, letting Dan go in first. Just like last time, Dan follows Phil into his kitchen. Phil tosses his keys on the counter and takes his sunglasses off.

“You hungry?”

Dan shakes his head. There’s no way he could possibly put anything in his stomach right now as it’s full to the brim with nerves and anxiety--and anticipation. He may as well go ahead and admit that to himself.

Phil makes them each a ribena instead. Again he watches Dan drink and accepts the empty cup when he’s finished. His finger brushes Dan’s against the glass and Dan feels the heat of it like a brand.

“Wanna watch something with me?” Phil asks.

Dan nods.

Soon they’re in the exact same place as last time, sat next to each other on the sofa, watching something on the tv. Dan doesn’t even know what it is. He wonders if Phil does either--he’d just flicked it on and tossed the remote into the corner of the sofa. The volume is loud enough that it helps quiet the voices in Dan’s head, asking him how far he’s actually going to let this go.

Phil’s arm finds its way across Dan’s shoulders again, his fingers pulling up the sleeve of Dan’s shirt and tracing their circles against the bare skin of his arm. Dan drops his head back against Phil’s arm and it’s clear then that neither of them is paying the slightest bit of attention to the images on the screen.

Phil leans in close and whispers in Dan’s ear, “Is this weird?”

“No,” Dan whispers back, closing his eyes.

“Do you feel it too?” His breath is hot on Dan’s neck and it’s making Dan crazy.

“Yes.” He feels it, the way he’s been drawn to Phil from the moment they laid eyes on each other, like an invisible thread connects them now, willing them together. It doesn’t even matter that Dan knows nothing about him, and he knows nothing about Dan.

He’d known _her_ , he’d known her down to the structure of her molecules, and look how well that had turned out.

“Should we talk?” Phil asks, his lips brushing the shell of Dan’s ear.

“No.” He definitely doesn’t want to talk. Right now he’s drunk on the lack of words being traded between them. He wants to go on not talking all goddamn day long.

Phil licks into Dan’s ear and Dan feels goosebumps explode all down his arms. Phil’s tongue traces every fold and dip lightly and when he pulls back to breathe against wet skin Dan feels ready to bust.

His chest is already heaving as Phil moves his mouth down to Dan’s neck. Dan tilts his head to the side to give maximum exposure of one of his most sensitive areas. Phil gives it two slow gentle kisses before licking in one stroke from collarbone back up to Dan’s ear.

A noise escapes from the back of Dan’s throat, completely involuntary and Phil latches on and sucks. Dan’s hand scrabbles, reaching out and clutching Phil’s denimed thigh for leverage against the overwhelming sensation that wracks through his body.

It’s been so long. He forgot he could feel like this. He forgot it was possible to feel anything but loneliness and regret.

“You taste like salt,” Phil breathes and Dan doesn’t even think about apologizing. There’s something wickedly, viscerally sexual about it, about Phil tasting his sweat and continuing to lick and suck at his skin like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Then Phil starts biting and Dan knows he’s fucked. He moans, digging his heels into the hard ground. He feels the collar of his shirt being tugged to the side and then Phil’s mouth is on his collarbone, his tongue licking into the deep well there.

Dan feels like his brain is short circuiting. It’s so much after so many months of nothing and he can scarcely handle it. Without stopping to wonder if he’s crossing a line of some sort, he shoves his hand into his pants and wraps it around his cock. The relief is almost painful and he hisses as Phil’s teeth sink into the thin skin of his collarbone.

Pain prickles and it’s good, it’s so fucking good he starts jerking himself, not caring about how selfish it is or how quickly he’s going to come. He’s going to make a mess of himself on someone else’s sofa and he doesn’t care.

He hears the clink of metal and the sound of a zipper being yanked open hastily. He picks his head up off Phil’s arm and looks down and watches as Phil’s hand pulls an absolutely enormous cock from his white briefs.

His hands are big and yet they don’t look it as his fingers squeeze that beautiful pink dick. The urge Dan feels to lean down and wrap his mouth around it is almost violent, but he fights it, biting harshly into his lip and moving his hand faster beneath his shorts.

“Ok?” Phil asks, as if this isn’t the single hottest thing Dan’s ever experienced.

He just nods, not moving his eyes from the way Phil strokes himself, slow and so much more measured than anything Dan’s capable of right now.

“Can I see you?” Phil asks, voice naught but a low rumble as he pulls back from Dan’s neck.

Dan’s stomach flips. He pulls himself out and doesn’t even feel self conscious about the size difference. The tip of Phil’s tongue peeks out between his teeth and his eyes are heavy lidded as he watches Dan working himself over.

Dan comes first, making a mess of himself just like he knew he would. His moans are high pitched and not particularly quiet and he doesn’t give a single fuck because it feels so good and so wrong and so right and Phil hasn’t taken his eyes off Dan’s dick once.

“Are you clean?” Phil croaks, and Dan sees him pushing his thumb against the underside of his flushed cockhead.

“What?” Dan’s brain has turned to mush, swimming with endorphins. His legs haven’t even stopped twitching yet.

“Are you clean?” Phil repeats.

Dan wonders why that should matter right now. “Yeah…” He frowns. “Are you?” The information isn’t important to him at the moment, but he still feels like he should ask.

Phil nods, reaching over and wrapping his hand around the wrist of Dan’s sticky hand. He pulls it over toward his lap and says, “Can I?”

Dan frowns. “It’s covered in come.”

Phil pulls Dan’s hand closer, so the backs of his fingers brush against Phil’s cock. “Exactly.”

Dan’s stomach flips again and if he hadn’t come literally thirty seconds ago he’d definitely be hard again. He wraps his big, pearl-streaked fingers around Phil’s hard length and Phil groans, closing his eyes and dropping his head down on the back of the sofa.

Dan strokes up slowly, his own come lubricating the glide of his hand. Phil wraps his own hand around Dan’s fist and moves him along, encouraging Dan to jerk a little faster. The squelching noise it makes is shockingly filthy, but it fills Dan with a deep, primal sense of satisfaction.

Phil’s cock feels amazing in Dan’s hand, long and thick and throbbing harder with every stroke. Phil squeezes Dan’s fist tighter around it and starts fucking up into the hot sticky tunnel they’re creating together. Dan watches Phil’s leaking head disappear into their fists over and over, mesmerized by how good it looks.

Phil doesn’t give him any warning before he comes, shooting thick and hot all over their hands and coating the crotch of his black jeans. He doesn’t release his grip on Dan when his cock stops pulsing. He doesn’t even let go when Dan can feel him starting to soften.

He looks into Dan’s eyes and Dan looks back and it’s only then that he notices that it’s suddenly dark, and all because he can’t see the blue behind his eyelids anymore. The sun had set somewhere between sitting down on that sofa and letting Phil fuck his jizz-soaked hand with abandon.

Phil pulls Dan’s hand from his cock but he doesn’t let go of it. In fact what he does is lace their fingers together and squeeze so their come seeps out between two sets of soft pale fingers.

It’s erotic. Sensual. Strangely romantic.

Which is Dan’s cue to panic.

“I should go.” He tucks himself back into his shorts, hand still intertwined with Phil’s.

“You don’t have to.” Phil’s voice is soft, like he hopes Dan decides to stay, put he lets Dan’s hand go and tucks himself back into his ruined jeans.

“S'ok,” Dan mumbles, wiping his hand on his shorts and standing up.

Phil stands up too. “Can I have your number?”

Dan chews on the inside corner of his bottom lip. He shakes his head.

He can’t tell if Phil is disappointed. He doesn’t look like he is. He kind of looks like he’s smiling.

“Will I see you again?”

Dan answers without stopping to analyze or rationalize. He’s going to let himself make some decisions now, decisions that don’t make sense and would make his mum sad, because this is the best he’s felt in a long time. He can actually feel his heart beating again, blood pumping fast through his veins.

“Yeah.” He turns around and walks out without another word.

 

He lies in bed after his shower, watching the lights from passing cars travel over the rough brick of the wall. All the lights are off but he can still see every corner of the flat. There’s a lot of traffic in London, even in the middle of the night.

He’s still not quite used to that. His place in Manchester had been tucked away on a quiet street with gardens and trees and old men sat on their porches watching their wives tending to their rose bushes. She’d insisted on that, on having a place that felt like a home and not just some place they’d use to ‘dump their shit.’

He’s not sure what feels like less him, that place, with the car in the drive and art on the walls and a bed with a frame and a kitchen full of food--or this one, dirty, hot and empty. Would he even want to go back there now if he had the choice? Now that he knows it had all been nothing but a lie?

He’s not sure. Even now, even with this cloying emptiness in his chest, he’s not sure. Maybe he would. Maybe he would if it meant he could hear her whisper in his ear how much she loves him, how right they are for each other, how they belong together. Maybe anything is better than this, even if it _is_ a lie.

He’s never been good at being alone. He craves it and yet, as soon as he’s alone with his own thoughts he starts to crumble. And he’s been alone for too long now.

His fingers itch to reach for his phone, but he resists. He balls his hands into fists and stares at the squares of light making their slow paths on his wall because he knows it’s better than opening up facebook and seeing her face. Even if by some miracle all he sees is _her_ face in the photos and no one else’s, it’ll still hurt. It’ll hurt so goddamn much he won’t be able to scrape himself off the floor tomorrow and drag his sorry ass to work.

He’d like to keep this job. It’s easy and it pays the bills, bills that are too steep for a place this shit. It keeps his mind somewhat occupied a few days a week and forces him to talk to real live human beings who aren’t his therapist or Janice down the shop who sells him his milk and tins of coffee and stale loaves of bread.

His fan blows lukewarm air over his face, ruffling his hair and smelling like dust. Maybe he should sweep his floors tomorrow or something. It’s not like he has anything else to do.

The thought crosses his mind that actually, he _could_ have something to do. If he really wanted. Not something but _someone_.

He knows it wasn’t a dream this time. He couldn’t have dreamed up something like that, something so perfectly filthy and yet strangely sweet. Phil is real and they’d really done that, but enough time has passed that it starts to _feel_ like a dream regardless. He’s thought about walking the ten steps it takes to get to Phil’s door. He’s thought about knocking and just inviting himself in and letting himself slip into whatever this weird thing between them seems to be.

He kind of wants to. Kind of a lot, and kind of often, because it had felt good, really fucking good and he kind of wants to feel that again. But as always, he doesn’t. He stays inside and sometimes he cries and sometimes he goes to work and sometimes he reads but always he’s sad and it’s because he’s a coward who can’t move on with his life. A coward who lets people take advantage of the kindness and trust of his nature, lets them take what they need until there’s nothing left for himself and they’ve no more use for him.

Technically Phil had taken something too, but it had felt different. For a little while, he’d taken Dan’s sorrow. He’d taken Dan’s broken heart and put it up on a shelf. He’d taken something and he’d given something back--a spark, an ember, a feeling of life in a tired body that’s felt dead and useless to him long enough he’d started to believe there was no other way to feel anymore.

But he’s a coward. So he sits in his dirty flat and stares at the wall and sweats on his sheets and pines for someone who hurt him—and someone he doesn’t even know.


	3. Chapter 3

Her hair is soft between his fingers, long and dark and fanned out across the pillow as she licks into his mouth. He pulls away, kisses down her neck to her breasts and opens his mouth to her hard pink nipple. He sucks it and she moans, neck arching back and legs wrapping around his waist. She smells the same. He wonders if she tastes the same. 

He kisses down her stomach, stopping to graze teeth against hip before pushing her thighs apart and kissing that smooth fragile skin. Small fingers thread through his hair as he kisses her clit, licks over it slowly with a flattened tongue, ending with a flick of the tip. She sighs appreciatively and it’s not enough, not for either of them. 

He uses his whole mouth now, enveloping her in heat and wet. He licks and sucks and swirls until the taste of her is all he knows, her soft sweet moans all he hears, all he ever wants to hear again. It was all a horrible dream, an endless seeming nightmare he’s finally woken up from.

Then knocking, faint but rhythmic. On the headboard? Reluctantly he lifts his head and… she’s gone. 

She’s fucking gone and he’s all alone. He sits up and digs the heels of his palms harshly into his eyes, trying to quell the welling of moisture forming under the lids.

Knocking again. He frowns, picking up his phone and squinting his abused eyes at the screen. It’s early, far too early for someone to be stood outside his door and knocking on it, for fuck’s sake.

Had he forgotten to pay his rent or something? He picks up yesterday's shirt from its crumpled heap on the floor and throws it over his head.

He pads across the worn wood floor and opens the door a moment before remembering he’s stood there in his pants, legs and feet bare as the day he was born.

Phil looks fresh as a fucking daisy, hair glossy and smooth, white shoes on his feet and a grin on his lips. “Hey there.”

“Morning,” Dan croaks. He clears his throat, tries to shake loose the cobwebs from a voice severely underused of late. 

Maybe this is a dream too. 

“Wanna go somewhere with me today?”

Dan chuckles. This man is too strange to be real, probably. 

Dan shrugs. “Why not?” He definitely doesn’t have anything else to do. Definitely nothing better than a random adventure with a beautiful stranger. “You’re buying me coffee though.”

“Of course. You might want to put some shorts on first?”

“What, you don’t like my legs?”

Phil flicks his eyes down. “Definitely didn’t say that.”

“Wanna come in a sec? I need to brush my teeth.” He leaves the door open and walks away, not waiting for an answer. He hears it close as he makes his way to the bathroom.

When he comes back out Phil is sat on his bed. “Your flat is empty, mate.”

Dan rifles through his hamper of clean laundry, pulling out the first pair of shorts he can find and slipping them on. Perhaps it should feel more strange, as Phil’s eyes are trained on him the whole time. It doesn’t though. Actually he kind of wishes he was taking his clothes  _ off _ instead. Phil looks long and delicious leaning back on his hands on Dan’s ruffled white sheets. 

“Yep.”

Phil juts his chin out in the direction of Dan’s single solitary table. “Whose birthday?”

Dan frowns, turning around in confusion to see what Phil’s on about. He spots the brightly wrapped gift box from his mum on the table. It’s still unopened, though it’s been sat there for nearly a week already, collecting dust so long Dan had completely forgotten about it.  

“Mine, actually.”

“When?”

“What’s today?”

Phil checks his phone. “Tenth.”

Fuck. Dan hadn’t realized it was so soon. “Tomorrow.”

“How old?”

Dan laughs, holding his hand out to help Phil up. “This feels like an interrogation.”

Phil accepts Dan’s hand and leans his weight into it as he stands. “Boundaries, got it.” He doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand as soon as he’s stood. He turns it over, staring at Dan’s palm. Admiring it, even. “You’ve got nice hands.”

Dan flips it so Phil’s hand is on top. It’s pale and soft and fleshy in a way that’s hard not to conceive of as  _ cute _ . Delicate, even. But then he remembers that hand wrapped around Dan’s, wanking himself with Dan’s come as lube and cute definitely seems the wrong word.

They’re nice hands, ones Dan doesn’t mind holding. Ones he wouldn’t mind scratching their short trimmed nails down his back.

“So do you.”

Phil smiles. “You ready?” 

Dan follows him to the door. “Where are we going?”

“Well first we’re going to get coffee.”

Dan closes the door behind them. He doesn’t bother locking it. He’s gotten into the unfortunate habit of forgetting. He doesn’t forget this time, he just truly doesn’t care. If someone wants his beaten up old laptop or his dirty socks, they’re more than welcome to them. 

“Why are you even up so early?” Dan asks as they wait for the lift.

“Is it early? Sorry.” 

He doesn’t actually answer the question, so Dan figures he should just leave it. He wants to ask Phil another question-- _ why did you knock on my door at 9am? _ \--but when he thinks about it he kind of finds he likes not knowing. He likes the idea in his head that Phil woke up and decided he just really wanted to go out with him today. It’s been ages since he could even pretend there was someone who gave a shit about him like that.

Phil buys him a coffee and a muffin and they take them to go. “Wanna get there before it gets super busy,” Phil says.

“Get where?”

Phil smiles, sticking his tongue out a little. “You’ll see.” 

God he’s cute. How can someone so hot be so cute?

He’s also kind of… odd, for lack of a better word. He has an odd way of walking. His toes turn in slightly and his hips sway a little more generously than what Dan would consider average. His shoulders are broad but a bit hunched and his neck stretches out from between them at an angle that makes Dan think of a bird. Even his nose is a little beaky.

It works for him though, Dan thinks. He’s not really graceful or altogether coordinated, but still Dan can’t seem to turn his eyes away. He’s different, and Dan finds himself mesmerized.  

Dan follows him underground and onto the tube, where they have to stand pressed up against each other and holding the bar above their heads.

 

Wherever Dan thought Phil might be taking them, it hadn’t been here.

“Did you know this is the world’s oldest scientific zoo?” Phil asks excitedly.

He’s not cute, Dan thinks. He’s fucking adorable. “I didn’t,” he says, his smile wide across his cheeks. 

“So Dan,” Phil says, once he’s paid their way in. There are people everywhere, children running around and harried mums yelling after them. It seems early hadn’t been early enough.

“So Phil.”

“How do you feel about being filmed?”

Dan splutter-laughs. “What?”

Phil reaches into the pocket of his black jeans and pulls out a small camera. “You know, like vlogging.”

Dan is speechless for a moment. This bloke really is strange. “Uh… fine, I guess?”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Well, do I have to do anything?”

Phil shakes his head. “I probably won’t even get you in shot that much. Actually… maybe you could be my cameraman for the day?”

Dan laughs. “Is this why you wanted me to come with you? Free labour?”

Phil frowns. “No. That’s not--”

Dan reaches out and takes the camera from Phil’s hand. He doesn’t really know how to work these things but how hard could it really be? “What should I do?”

“You don’t have to--”

Dan’s got a finger pressed to Phil’s lips to shut him up. “It’s fine. You have a weird thing for animals and you want a video of yourself like, feeding giraffes or whatever, that’s cool.”

Phil laughs. “No! … Ok, well,  _ yeah _ I do but in this particular circumstance I just really need to film a vlog. I haven’t made a day in the life in ages.”

“Day in the life?”

Phil just waves his hand dismissively. “S’not important.”

“Who do you normally do these with?”

“Just myself.”

“So why am I here?” Dan asks. He tries not to make his tone sound accusatory.

Phil steps in closer to him then and reaches up, brushing a curl off Dan’s forehead. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he says, voice low. “A lot. I really wanted to see you. Didn’t want to keep waiting for you to come to me.”

Dan’s heart thuds against his sternum. “I didn’t know you were waiting.” He can’t think of a single thing to say, though a million thoughts scream themselves at him. 

“Have you been thinking about me too?”

Dan nods. His eyes travel down from Phil’s eyes to his lips, the urge to lean in and kiss him is suddenly overwhelming.

“Well good then.” Phil steps back, much to Dan’s disappointment. “We don’t have to film. Let’s just go have fun.”

“You said you need a vlog,” Dan says, shaking his shoulders a little of the sudden tension that’s knotted its way up into his muscles. 

“I can do it another time.”

Dan shakes his head. “Just tell me how to work this thing.”

Dan proceeds to film for the next few hours. Phil keeps talking to the camera like he has an audience beyond the one tall, sweaty guy behind the lens. It’s weird, but Dan doesn’t question it. He’s quickly coming to understand that Phil is just a weird person. 

His voice changes when he addresses the camera, going from deep and relaxed to something much more theatrical. In fact everything changes, from the set of his shoulders to the smile on his face.

Dan is relieved when that theatricality is dropped completely as Phil looks at him and says, “I think that’s enough. I can work with that.” He holds out his hand for the camera and Dan gives it to him. He turns it off and Dan gives him a smile. A real one. “Let’s just have fun now.”

“What do you like… do. With that. Like is it just for fun or…”

“Uh, no,” Phil says. He seems reluctant. “Not exactly.”

Dan can take a hint. Phil clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. “Alright then, mate. What’s next?”

Phil grins, returning the camera to his pocket. “Lions, definitely.”

They go see the lions, as well as everything else. It’s Dan who insists. He’s a completionist to a fault after all. If he’s going to the zoo he wants to see every single animal in the whole damn place. Phil doesn’t seem to mind. They revert back to rarely sharing words, and Dan feels that charge return to the space between them the longer the day stretches. 

Not that there ever really seems to be much space between them. Phil even puts his hand on the small of Dan’s back for a minute when they’re stood by the glass at the aquarium. Dan risks turning his head to look at Phil, only to discover him focused intently on a school of brightly coloured fish swimming above them. 

Dan allows his eyes to linger on Phil’s face and the way the soft blue light falls over it. His hair is too black for his pale skin, and yet, it works. He’s beautiful and Dan feels that urge to kiss him again.

And that scares him. 

And then someone behind them is saying Phil’s name excitedly and Phil is muttering something under his breath before turning around and Dan watches his face revert back to that plastic-looking expression from before. His eyes open a little too wide, his smile forced, the arm not reaching out for a stiff hug with a random teenage girl is pinned to his side, his hand closed in an anxious fist.

“Can I get a selfie?” she asks brightly.

“Uh… yeah, sure, of course.” Phil reaches his hand out for the girl’s phone, but she’s already handing it to Dan.

“Oh— no, that’s not—” he shoots Dan an apologetic look.

“It’s fine,” Dan says, because he’s too confused to say anything else.

The girl leans the side of her head against Phil’s chest and throws her fingers up in a peace sign, grinning happily. Phil’s smile looks about as disingenuous as Dan could imagine it, knowing what Phil looks like when he’s actually happy. He puts his arm around her shoulder and Dan snaps a few photos before handing the phone back.

“Thank you so much, oh my god.” She swipes through the photos, the giddy energy radiating off her in waves. “Can’t believe I met AmazingPhil.” 

“Well…” Phil murmurs awkwardly. “Nice to meet you then.”

“Oh my god, you too! What are you doing here anyway, are you filming a ditl?”

Dan wouldn’t have thought it possible for Phil to look even more uncomfortable, but he manages it then. “Just enjoying the animals.”

“Oh right. Fun! Did you go see the lions yet?” She winks.

What the actual fuck is going on, Dan wonders.

Phil just chuckles. “Yeah, we did. Gotta… you know, stick to the branding.”

This is unbearable. Apparently Phil is only capable of being forward when he’s asking Dan to jerk him off. Dan doesn’t think he can stand this a moment longer, and Phil doesn’t look like he can either.

So Dan steps in and gives the girl a smile and tells her they have to be on their way. She looks disappointed but Dan takes Phil’s hand and drags him away, around the corner until they come to the toilets. They slip inside, as Dan doubts anyone would dare ask Phil for a selfie in here.

Somehow there’s no one inside at the moment, but now Dan’s paranoid and he doesn’t want to risk it. He pulls Phil into one of the stalls and locks the door.

Phil leans against the wall and scrubs his hands down over his face. “God. Thanks for that.”

“Sure,” Dan says casually. “Sometimes you just want to escape from… your fans?”

Phil picks his head up off the wall and looks at Dan. “Please don’t ask.”

“Didn’t know you were famous, mate.”

Phil scowls. “M’not. Just… we don’t have to talk about this, do we?”

“Not if you don’t want.”

Phil nods. “Good. I don’t.”

“It’s just… yeah, definitely not just for fun then, yeah? That video?”

Phil pushes himself off the stall wall and steps forward, gripping Dan’s hips and pushing him up against the opposite wall. “Thought we weren’t gonna talk.”

Dan grins, his eyes heavy lidded as he lets his head thunk against the wall. “How you gonna stop me, then?”

Phil grins back, pushing himself up against Dan’s body and tugging on the collar of Dan’s shirt. He’s just dragging his tongue across Dan’s collar bone when they hear the toilet door open and voices echoing in the large room.

Dan giggles and Phil cups a hand over his mouth to shut him up. Dan looks into Phil’s big blue eyes, smiling beneath his fingers. Phil keeps his hand clamped firmly over Dan’s mouth and he leans in and starts sucking on his neck. Dan closes his eyes and breathes heavy through his nose. Something about the taboo of snogging in a public toilet sets his nerves alight, and he’s hard in a matter of seconds as Phil mouths all over him.

They hear the people leave and it’s quiet again save for Dan moaning against Phil’s hand and the wet sound of tongue on skin. Phil leaves his hand where it is and doesn’t stop, moving his mouth up to Dan’s ear and tracing the inside with his tongue.

Dan’s fingers fumble with Phil’s belt, desperate to feel that thick cock in his hands again. 

Phil doesn’t make any moves to stop him. In fact once his jeans are unzipped he helps Dan tug his boxers down enough for his cock to bob free. 

Phil’s using his teeth now, biting anywhere his mouth can reach, sending sparks of delicious pain over Dan’s sensitive skin as Dan tugs on Phil’s cock. They hear more people come and go and Dan barely has enough blood left in his brain to give a flying fuck. It feels way too good to stop now. It’s the most liberated he’s felt in years.

Phil is grunting against Dan’s neck and humping in time with Dan’s strokes. His cock is leaking, new bubbles of precome waiting for Dan’s thumb every time he swipes it across the glossy head. 

He breathes into Dan’s ear, “You’re gonna make me come.”

Dan’s stomach flips. He wrenches Phil’s hand off his mouth and sinks to his knees, jerking harder and wrapping his mouth around Phil’s dick. He sucks hard on the head and licks against the underside. Phil grabs a handful of Dan’s sweaty curls and pulls at the root. It hurts and Dan loves it.

Not ten seconds later Phil is coming, shooting hot and thick onto the back of Dan’s throat and squeezing Dan’s shoulder with his free hand. Dan keeps working him through it with his hand, milking every last spurt of come and never breaking the suction on the head of Phil’s cock. 

Phil pulls away when he’s spent and can’t take any more. Dan makes a show of swallowing. 

Phil’s cock hangs there in front of Dan’s face, hard still and wet with Dan’s spit. Dan looks up through his lashes at Phil who’s already looking down, eyes rapt. Dan sticks out his tongue and laps at Phil’s head again. It’s too pretty to resist.

Phil hisses but doesn’t pull away, so Dan goes ahead and wraps his mouth around him again. Phil tenses at first, then reaches down and pushes Dan’s fringe off his forehead. “You’re gonna get me going again if you don’t stop.”

Dan pulls off. “Maybe that’s what I want. Your dick tastes good.”

Phil smirks. “What if I wanna taste yours, though?”

The toilet door opens with a bang then and they both jump. Phil reaches down and pulls Dan up, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up his jeans. “Maybe not here though.”

Dan’s own dick is tenting his shorts obscenely and leaking into his underwear. Contrary to his words, Phil cups Dan through his shorts, rubbing his palm up and down the shaft. “Unless you can’t wait.”

Dan’s heart is pounding. They’re not alone in here. It’s a miracle no one’s knocked on the stall door yet. There’s something wickedly hot about that kind of pseudo exhibitionism and Dan’s dick twitches under Phil’s attention. “Don’t wanna wait.”

“I can make it a lot better if we wait. I can take my time.” He thumbs over Dan’s clothed head and Dan bites back his moan. 

“Up to you,” Phil says.

“Fuck,” Dan croaks, dropping his forehead down onto Phil’s shoulder. “Fine. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Phil nods and pulls his hand away. Dan shoves his hand down his pants and positions himself so he’s tucked under his waistband. At least it hides the tenting a little bit.

Phil leaves the stall first and Dan hears him turn the tap on. He must be washing his hands, or maybe just splashing some water on his face. Dan hears the door open and then close and assumes Phil will meet him outside. 

It’s not that easy to calm himself down. The taste of Phil still lingers on his tongue, his skin still buzzing with the way Phil had been biting it. He sits on the toilet and takes deep breaths until his dick stops throbbing and his blood starts to flow elsewhere.

He waits another minute still, not wanting to make it quite so obvious that they’d been in here together, though probably no one would ever notice or care anyway.

Although, that may not actually be true. Someone could definitely notice, Dan realizes, as he remembers what drove them to the toilets in the first place. He’d been thoroughly distracted by Phil’s mouth on his skin. Apparently Phil is some kind of famous… vlogger? He’ll have to find a way to ask him about that without coming on too strong. It’d been pretty clear that he hadn’t wanted to talk about it.    

He untucks himself from his shorts and goes to wash his hands before joining Phil, who’s found his way back to watching the fish. He turns to look at Dan when he comes up beside him.

He smiles, a silly, cheeky thing with his tongue poking out a little. “That was mental.” 

Dan smiles back. There’s no way he couldn’t, Phil looks so bloody flushed and adorable. “Yeah.”

“I don’t-- I never do stuff like that.”

Dan scoffs. “That’s what they all say.”

“So you do, then?”

“Uh, no actually. Definitely not.”

Phil turns back to the fish. It feels like he probably has more to say, maybe more questions to ask, but he doesn’t. Instead he says quietly, “It was fun, anyway.”

“Yeah, it was,” Dan agrees. Now that the moment has passed, the energy between them feels awkward. Not in a bad way, maybe just a little nervous. He takes a deep breath, not wanting to let that feeling linger. He leans in a little closer and asks, “Should we get out of here and go have some more fun?”


	4. Chapter 4

The sun is low in the sky by the time they make their way up from the underground and in the direction of their building. The air is a little cooler as the wind blows, ruffling the leaves of the trees that line the pavement. They’ve settled back into what seems to be their default -- comfortable silence. Dan keeps stealing looks at Phil and the way his pale skin is lit by up the yellow-pink light of the setting sun, keeps getting flashes of what they’d done earlier.

He’s glad they’re almost back to their building. He’s ready to find out exactly what Phil meant when he said he was going to take his time.

Dan’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it. Whoever it is can definitely wait.

A minute later it rings. He can feel it vibrating on his leg, the volume muted. He ignores that too. Phil is holding the door open for him.

Mercifully, the lift is empty. Dan has a surge of bravery, pushing Phil up against the wall, slipping his hands up under his shirt and wrapping them around the smooth skin of his waist.

Phil smiles like he’s not surprised at all. “So you’re still up for this, then?”

“Fuck yes,” Dan croaks, his face right up in front of Phil’s. “Did you think I wasn’t?”

Phil doesn’t answer. He keeps his eyes locked on Dan’s as he slides a hand right into Dan’s pants and cups his dick. “I was hoping you were.”

Dan’s still not entirely convinced he’s not in a coma or something and living out some kind of crazy fever dream, but either way, he’ll take it. He hasn’t thought about anyone other than Phil this entire day. Not once has he felt the sickening lurch of emptiness in his chest he’s become so accustomed to. Not once has he thought about her. His phone is ringing in his pocket again.

The lift dings and Dan tries to pull himself away. “Mine or yours?”

“Don’t care,” Phil says, voice deep as gravel as he gives Dan’s cock a squeeze before pulling his hand out of his shorts.

They stumble out of the lift and Dan fumbles in his pocket for his keys before remembering he hadn’t actually locked his door. He looks up and down the hall, and upon seeing no one, grabs Phil’s hand. “Mine then. Come on.”

Dan leads Phil to the door of his flat, their fingers still laced together as he opens it. He steps inside only to be stopped dead in his tracks by a breathy gasp that definitely hadn’t come from either of them.

His eyes lock onto someone sat on his bed, and the panic manages to claw its way down his throat in the split second it takes him to recognize who it is.

He drops Phil’s hand like he’s been branded. “Mum.”

Her hand is slapped over her heaving chest. “Jesus, Daniel, you scared the bloody fucking hell out of me.”

“You’re the one lurking in my flat,” he chokes, crossing his arms over his chest, wrapping his hands painfully tight around his biceps.

“You left your door open and you weren’t answering my calls. I’ve been ringing.” She stands up, brushing off her jeans as if his bed had sullied them.

Which actually, fair enough, Dan thinks.

“Hello,” she says, looking past Dan to Phil. “I’m Jen.”

“Oh uh, this is-- this is Phil,” Dan mumbles. His cheeks are on fire, no doubt red as a fucking tomato.

“Hi,” Phil says timidly. “Nice to meet you. I’ll-- I’ll just be on my way then.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go,” Jen says politely. “I didn’t mean to interrupt--”

“It’s fine, right Dan?” Phil asks.

Dan kind of wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole right now. He doesn’t even know what to say at first. He really doesn’t want Phil to leave, but he also doesn’t want to have them both in here at the same time, and obviously his mum wants to talk to him if she’s come all the way here.

“Uh, yeah, right. I’ll-- I’ll see you…”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

Dan shakes his head.

“You’ve not got any plans tomorrow, Dan?” his mum interjects softly. “On your birthday?”

Oh fuck, he’d forgotten again. He ignores her, turning to look at Phil. “Tomorrow’s good.”

Phil nods. He looks at Jen and gives her a smile, and even a painfully endearing little wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, love.” The smile she gives him is bemused. Dan can tell she knows exactly what was happening here, and she’s graciously going to wait until Phil’s gone to dig him out for it.

“Night,” Dan says as Phil steps out the door. He mouths ‘sorry’ and Phil just shakes his head. Dan closes the door behind him and turns back around reluctantly.

Her eyebrow is cocked. “That’s why you weren’t answering your phone? You hadn’t told me you’d met someone.”

“I haven’t. He’s just a mate.” Dan walks to the kitchen area of the flat. He needs some water or something. He needs to stock up his fridge with some kind of hard liquor for the next time this bullshit happens.

“A mate you drag by the hand into your flat.”

He fills a glass with water and chugs it. He doesn’t offer her anything. He drinks the whole thing and turns away from her to put the cup in the sink. “What are you doing here, mum?”

“I had a meeting. Thought I’d drop in.”

He turns around and leans back against the counter.

She motions her head in the direction of the little kitchen table in the corner. “I see you haven’t opened my gift.”

“I was… waiting. For my actual birthday.”

She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Right.”

All of a sudden Dan feels painfully aware of the lack of furnishings in this flat. He doesn’t even have a place for them to sit. She’d only been here once, the day he moved in, so no doubt she’s mildly horrified by the state of it.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself. He needs to get her out before she can dwell too much on her adult son’s failure to do the bare minimum to take care of himself. “Should we go get coffee or something?” He’s not actually cross with her or anything, he’s just… disappointed. This isn’t how he wanted his night to go, but it doesn’t mean he has to be a dick.

She smiles. “I’d like that.”

They go to a Starbucks just down the street and take their drinks out to the patio. It’s actually really nice out now that the sun’s gone down and he thinks he’d be happy under different circumstances.

“Are you staying overnight or…?”

She shakes her head. “I can’t stay long, I have to catch my train soon. I just wanted to see my baby.”

“I thought Adrian was your baby.”

She smiles, reaching across the table and swiping her thumb gently along his cheekbone. “You’re my big baby. About to be another year bigger.”

He groans. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’re still young.”

“I’m almost thirty.”

“You’re really not. Still four years out. And you know life doesn’t stop when you turn thirty.”

No, Dan thinks, it stops when you’re twenty five and your girlfriend shoves her hand down your throat and rips your fucking heart out without remorse. Seeing his mum again reminds him of that life and he feels the pain viscerally, stabbing at his chest like it’s happening all over again.

“You need to buy some furniture, Daniel,” she says after a while. “Your flat looks even worse than your dad’s did when I first met him, and that’s saying something.”

“Maybe it’s genetic. Maybe you just need to let me live my truth, mum.”

She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even smile. Her eyes are big and brown, just like his, and they look sad. She puts her hand on his arm. “How are you feeling?” Her voice is soft and he knows she’s really asking something very specific.

He just shakes his head.

“Do you want to come home for a while?”

Dan pulls his arm away and her hand drops onto the black metal table that separates them. “I am home, mum. This is home now.”

“You have nothing here.” She doesn’t mince words. “I worry about you, and frankly you’ve done nothing to change my mind.”

“Was I supposed to?”

“I hoped you would. I hoped with some time and distance…”

“Well, sorry.” He takes a long drink of his coffee. He wipes his mouth against his wrist and slumps back in his chair. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

She sits back in her chair too, crossing one long leg over her knee. “Sure.” Her tone says she’s not agreeing, but she’s also agreeing not to _disagree_.

“I made a friend, that should please you.”

“I don’t know if that’s the kind of friend you need right now, Dan.”

Dan rolls his eyes.

“I’d hate to see you get hurt again, love, that’s all.”

“It’s not like that,” Dan says, shaking his head. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Well, that’s good then, I think.”

He has to laugh a little at that. “You’re _encouraging_ me to have meaningless hookups.”

“I mean, it’d probably be best to have none at all, but if you must have them…”

“Isn’t that like, what you’re supposed to do? Isn’t that how it works? To get over someone you have to get under someone else?”

His mum grimaces. “God, Dan, please. I’m trying to-- I want to be understanding but I’m still your mum.”

“Sorry.” He’s laughing now, he can’t help it. It makes him feel better, seeing his mum blush like that. His own mortification is worth hers, especially if it gets her off this line of questioning.

“Well, he seems nice at least. Is he?”

Dan shrugs. “Probably.”

“We don’t need to have-- you know, the talk--”

“No, mum. God. I’m fine.”

She nods. “Ok, ok.”

They finish their drinks and throw out their cups and stand to go their separate ways, Dan back to the flat, his mum to the train station. She hugs him tight and he asks, “Did you really have a meeting or were you just checking up on me?”

“A mother never reveals her secrets.”

He can’t be annoyed. Embarrassed maybe that his life is such a mess that his mum feels the need to come all the way to London to make sure he’s at least doing the bare minimum to take care of himself, but not annoyed. It’s nice to know there’s someone who still cares. She kind of has to, but he still appreciates it. It’s not like his dad or brother are putting in any effort.

He thinks about knocking on Phil’s door. It’s right there and it’s only been an hour since Phil’s hand had been squeezing at Dan’s cock. He’s been horny pretty much all day, and a pretty fucking great solution is right on the other side of the door marked 1803.

But he doesn’t want to come across too desperate. They’d made plans to see each other tomorrow. He can wait til tomorrow. He opens the door to his own flat and steps inside. It’s not like he _needs_ someone else to take care of this particular problem.

He heads straight for the bathroom and turns on the shower. He strips naked and stares at himself in the mirror as the water heats up. The skin on his arms looks more tan than it did this morning and he has two dark mouth shaped bruises low on his neck. He’s already half hard just remembering how good it felt to receive them.

He steps into the warm spray and it takes him no time at all to get fully hard, recalling Phil’s hand clamped tight over Dan’s mouth and the soft thickness of Phil in his hand.

He jerks himself slowly. Painfully slowly, eyes squeezed shut tight, replaying these images over and over. He thinks of how he felt kneeling for Phil and sucking the come right out of his cock, the ground hard against his shins and the hot prickle of pain as Phil gripped his hair at the root.

He can still hear Phil hissing and whimpering quietly as Dan sucked at his oversensitive head. He can’t forget a single moment of the whole thing, the whole dirty, filthy, unbelievably sexy thing. He lets out the kind of noises he wanted to make in that toilet but couldn’t for fear of being caught.

He braces himself against the wall of the shower with his free hand and tugs fast and rough until he blows his load against the tile, clinging to Phil’s promise that he’d take his time with Dan. That he’d make it good.

 

He lies in bed afterwards, and for the first time in a long time, he’s actually feeling good. It’s still warm in the flat but it’s not hot. He’s not sweating and he doesn’t need to turn on the fan. His window is open and he can feel the breeze on his face. Somehow London sounds lovely tonight, with its cars and its buses and even its sirens. It feels like a reminder that he’s not actually alone.

He wonders why he’d never really been able to see it that way before.

He closes his eyes. Maybe he’ll actually be able to fall asleep before his birthday officially comes. He’ll have to stay off Facebook, of course, and every other social media site. Shouldn’t be too hard -- he’s been doing it for months. If anyone _really_ wants to wish him a happy birthday, they have his number.

Probably no one will, though. He’s already talked to his mum, and he knows his dad will assume that counts for him as well. Maybe his nan will call, or maybe he’ll get a card in the post in a couple of weeks, fiver tucked into the back of the envelope. Maybe Adrian will text him, maybe he won’t.

It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. In the grand scheme of life it’s just another day, really, and he’s going to spend it with the person he actually wants to spend it with.

Phil. Strange, sexy Phil.

_Amazing Phil._

The memory hits him then, of the young girl’s excited face and the curious moniker she’d used that’d caused Phil to spin around nervously, and the way Dan had spent the first couple of hours at the zoo filming Phil’s every move.

Amazing Phil. Maybe he should look it up. Would he find anything? Does he _want_ to find anything?

Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he wants everything to stay just as it is. Maybe it’s better if they don’t know anything about each other. There’s something truly intoxicating about that, about touching someone in the most intimate of ways when you don’t even know their middle name or where they were born or what their hopes and dreams are.

It’s probably better for him not to look it up.

But now that he’s had the thought, he’s not sure he can push it aside. He wants to know why Phil needs a vlog of himself at the zoo. He wants to know why his voice pitches up and his gesticulations become so totally different when there’s a camera pointed at it. He wants to know why he has teenage girls beside themselves with joy at the prospect of a photo with him

He wants to know why he’s called amazing Phil.

Dan picks up his head from the pillow, curls still wet from his shower and rolls over to grab his old laptop off the floor. He sits up, leaning back against the wall and sets the computer across his bare thighs. He opens it up and the cold white light of it burns his eyes in the soft darkness of his empty flat.

He stares at the google homepage and bites his lip. He shouldn’t do this. He should shut the lid and lie down and close his eyes and revel in mystery that is Phil.

But he can’t forget about the amazing now. It’s worming its way deeper and deeper into his brain and he just has to know what it means.

So he types it into the search bar and hits return before he has time to second guess himself anymore. He only has time to process links to YouTube and Twitter and -- a whole fucking lot of pictures of Phil before his phone buzzes, making him jump.

It keeps buzzing, which means he’s getting a call. Could it be that someone is actually calling him before his birthday has even arrived?

Probably it’s just his mum calling to tell him again that he needs to be careful or something like that. He rolls his eyes but figures he’d ignored one too many of her calls today. He should get up and ease her mind. It’s the least she deserves. After all she’s pretty much the only person in this world who hasn’t given up on him.

Reluctantly, he puts the laptop aside and hauls himself out of bed and over to the shorts where his phone is still tucked into the pocket. He fishes it out and answers without bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Dan, hi.”

His stomach drops, his blood turning to ice in his veins.

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

He shouldn’t have. He wishes he hadn’t. He’d only just managed to spend a day without hearing the sound of her voice in his head. Now she’s in his ear and it’s the worst fucking early birthday present he could possibly imagine.


	5. Chapter 5

“Dan?”

He’s forgotten how to speak. He doesn’t know what he’d say even if he did remember how to form words. 

Maybe this is just a dream. Maybe this is just a terrible terrible nightmare.

Or…

No. He absolutely  _ cannot _ let himself think for a moment this is anything but bad. She’s not ringing to take him back. She’s not. She’s not ringing because she’s suddenly realized she was wrong and they belong together after all.

This is bad. Whatever she wants from him, it’s not what he wants from her, and it’s going to rip out his guts to have to say goodbye again, even over the phone. 

“Dan. You still there, babes?”

He can taste bile on the back of his tongue, feel his pulse pounding all the way down in the tips of his fingers.

Why doesn’t he just hang up? Why can’t he ever just do what the fuck he bloody well wants to do? 

“What,” he croaks.

“Oh, you  _ are _ there. Hi!”

What the fuck is happening? What gives her the right to sound so bloody chipper and cheerful. This woman has blood on her hands and she knows it. Surely she knows what this is doing to him, and yet she’s doing it anyway.

Actually… yeah. That makes sense. That makes perfect sense. Maybe all that shit from before hadn’t been enough. Maybe she’s not done torturing him yet. Maybe she was just giving him time to build up some sort of shell of humanity again before ripping it away with her bare hands. Maybe--

“Dan.” She sounds the same. He doesn’t know why that should be surprising. 

“What,” he repeats.

“How are you?” 

“What?” This time it comes out more like a question, which is good. He sounds more angry and less like a startled little boy.

“How are you doing?”

“Why are you-- what do you want?”

“I want to know how you’re doing,” she says softly. That softness cuts him through like a knife. 

“How do you bloody think?”

“Dan.”

He doesn’t say anything. What could he possibly say?

“It’s your birthday.”

“Not yet,” he says quietly. 

“You didn’t think I’d forget your birthday, did you?”

God this hurts. It hurts like he’s been punched in the gut, remembering all the birthdays they’d spent together. Thinking of all the birthdays still to come that won’t have her in them.

“What do you want?” he asks again, pathetically. Utterly unable to hide the sadness in his voice. 

“I wanted to… I wanted to make sure you were ok, Dan. I worry about you.”

“Is that it?” he spits.

“What d’you mean?”

“You’re just ringing me ‘cause you feel guilty, yeah? You want me to tell you I’m not a mess-- well I am. I’m a mess. And you don’t get to ring me on my birthday and make yourself feel better about that.”

“I wasn’t--”

“Is that it?” he asks again.

“Dan--”

“I have to go.” The anger and the pain give him a surge of bravery and he hangs up. He tosses his phone across the room and actually kind of hopes it shatters but he can’t be sure. He can’t see anything. He can’t hear anything but her.

He climbs back into bed and crushes his face into his pillow, because what else can he do? There’s nothing in the world that could distract him from this. He turns his head to the side when the pillow starts to smother him and sees Phil’s face on his computer screen.

He slams it shut. He’s a fucking idiot. He’d almost gone and ruined everything.

Phil is a stranger. He’s a wonderful perfect stranger and that’s how Dan wants it to stay. He never wants to know anyone else like this again. He never wants to give anyone the power to hurt him like this ever again.

Amazing Phil doesn’t matter. All that matters is Mr. Philip Lester, apt 1803.

 

Knocking again. Faint rhythmic knocking, though this time there’s no dream. He knows it’s real.

The knocking stops. Dan hears his name being uttered from the other side of his front door. He doesn’t answer. His chest still hurts and his eyes are bleary and he’s not ready to face a world where he feels this terrible. 

The knocking stops and Dan is instantly unconscious again.

 

The second time he wakes up, it’s because he needs the toilet. He has no idea what time it is as his phone is somewhere in the corner of his flat, probably smashed to bits on the floor and unable to actually display anything at all. 

It doesn’t matter. It’s his birthday. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. If he wants to sleep all day and try not to cry, he will. All his birthday really signifies is that he’s one step closer to death anyway. Is that really a reason to celebrate?

Well…

He splashes some cold water on his face. He can’t let himself think like that. He’s not supposed to. He needs to make another appointment with his therapist.

Shit, he might have to get a new phone.

He doesn’t go looking for the phone. Instead he slips back into bed and under his sun warmed sheets and stares up at the ceiling until he falls back to sleep. 

 

The third time there’s knocking again. This time, he actually feels awake. He can tell without any type of clock or watch, just from the softness of the light in his flat that it’s late afternoon. 

Three knocks and then the sound of… paper? Something like paper sliding against the floor. He sits up in his bed and sees a light pink piece of paper, folded in half and waiting for him on the floor in front of his front door. 

Does post get delivered straight to his flat now?

He still feels like shit -- achy, as if his ribs have been squeezed in a vice or something like that, but the curiosity is too much to resist. He drags himself up and fetches the note.

It’s definitely not a piece of post. It’s a note -- just a note, scribbled out rather messily in smudged blue ink.

_ Dan. I hope you’re doing ok. I left something for you on the other side of the door, so hopefully it’s still there when you get this note. I couldn’t fit it under the door. :) _

_ My door is open if you still want company today. I’ll just be hanging out. No pressure of course.  _

_ Happy birthday xx _

_ Phil _

Dan doesn’t like the warmth he feels spreading in his chest. He can’t. He can’t let it be this easy.

He also can’t ignore the curiosity, somehow even worse  _ after _ reading the note. He tucks the little piece of pink paper into the band of his pants and pulls the door open.

He’s greeted by green leaves brushing against his chest, a round white pot at his feet.

It’s a houseplant, and it’s almost as tall as he is. He drags it into his flat and shuts the door. It’s heavy, but he drags it all the way over to right beside his bed. He sits down on the edge of the mattress and stares up at it.

It’s… it’s nice. It’s just really fucking nice. The colour of it pops against all the empty nothingness of his flat, something organic and beautiful amidst his view of brick and concrete. He hugs his knees and tries not to think about how kind and thoughtful a gift it is.

He fails miserably, obviously. The sunlight streaming in through the window at the opposite end of the flat hits the leaves, and the shadow of them falls over Dan’s face. He’s got his very own little one tree jungle right there next to his bed, and that’s because of Phil. 

Phil who’s been knocking on Dan’s door, probably wondering if he’d gone and died overnight or something. Phil who did absolutely nothing to deserve Dan’s silent treatment. It’s nice -- too nice really, and it’s bad timing because after last night Dan is acutely aware of how unready he is to be any kind of vulnerable right now, but he knows he can’t ignore this.

He pulls the note out of his underwear and unfolds it, reads it over three times, slowly, taking in each word. There’s nothing pushy or presumptuous or passive aggressive about it. It’s just nice. Phil is a nice person, and that just so happens to be Dan’s kryptonite. He’s already fucked and he knows it, but he can’t ignore a gesture like this.

All he can do is hope Phil will be gentle with the splinters of his heart.

 

He doesn’t knock. Phil had said his door was open, and Dan decides to continue with the precedent they’ve set for boldness. He opens the door and steps inside and there Phil is, sat at his little kitchen table hunched over his laptop. He looks up when Dan shuts the door behind him, looking adorable with his glasses slipped down near to the end of his nose.

“Dan.” He pushes his glasses up and shuts his laptop. “You’re here.”

Dan just nods. He doesn’t even know what to expect. Maybe he should just take all his clothes off and climb into Phil’s lap. Maybe he needs to set the tone of this thing so Phil doesn’t get the wrong idea. So Dan doesn’t let  _ himself _ get the wrong idea. 

Phil stands. “You alright?” His voice is so deep and gentle. It’s ridiculous. It’s more appealing than any voice has a right to be.  

Dan stays rooted to the spot, leaning back against Phil’s front door. All he can manage is a shrug. He’s not, but Phil doesn’t need to know the sordid details of his heartbreak. 

Phil tilts his head a little to the side. “You… you want to talk about it?”

Dan shakes his head.

Phil takes a few steps closer, keeps taking steps until he’s stood just a few feet away. “Did you get my gift?”

Dan nods. He should say thank you, but he can’t bring himself to open his mouth. He doesn’t want words. He has no need for them. He wants Phil to make him feel better, but not with words.

Phil takes a step closer. “Do you want me to stop talking?”

Dan nods again, reaching a hand out. Phil takes one more step and Dan grabs the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling him in roughly, crashing their chests together. He wraps his arms around Phil’s waist and drops his forehead down onto Phil’s shoulder. 

Phil’s hands find their way to Dan’s hips and rest there loosely as Dan squeezes around Phil’s middle. Dan breathes in and out slowly, trying not to let himself be overcome by how right this feels, especially after the agony of last night. 

One of Phil’s hands wraps around and presses into Dan’s lower back. Dan’s breath hitches, but not in the way he’d been hoping for when he opened Phil’s door. He tilts his head and presses his face into Phil’s neck and it’s wet.

He makes a noise he wishes he could take back and his chest stutters and he squeezes his arms so tight, as tight as he can around Phil’s waist and Phil just lets him even though there’s no way it could feel good. His own arms move up and his hands press flat against Dan’s back and Dan makes that noise again and there’s more wetness on Phil’s neck.

Dan’s still trying to hold it together. Maybe Phil doesn’t actually know he’s crying. Maybe he just thinks Dan likes bear hugging as some weird form of foreplay. 

Then Phil’s hand is sliding up into Dan’s hair and cradling the back of Dan’s head and he’s whispering, “It’s alright,” and Dan’s not holding it together anymore.

He lets it all out, against Phil’s neck and around his waist and he absolutely hates himself for going and ruining this fun hot mystery he’d stumbled upon and he hates her for taking away the one thing he’d managed to find that was for him and no one else. He hates it.

But it does feel good. It feels good to be held for once as he cries, and Phil never tries to pull away.

“It hurts,” Dan says.

“I know,” Phil replies.

He doesn’t. He couldn’t.

“You’re gonna be ok,” Phil says.

He doesn’t know that. There’s no way he could possibly know that.

It makes Dan feel better, though. Maybe he did need a few words after all. 

 

Eventually he runs out of tears and his arms are sore from squeezing. He lets them hang loosely around Phil’s back. He has to do something, he has to fix this. He doesn’t want it to end like this. He doesn’t want it to end. 

He wants to erase the sadness now with something good. He wants to make Phil forget what a bloody fucking mess his strange neighbour is. So he shifts his face and nuzzles into the damp skin of Phil’s neck.

He presses a kiss there and tastes his own salt but it doesn’t phase him. He parts his lips and kisses again, and again, a little wetter every time. He kisses with just his lips for a while before adding in a soft graze of teeth, just like Phil had done yesterday in the aquarium toilets.

He latches on and starts sucking and Phil makes a little breathy noise like he likes the direction Dan is taking this. His grip on Dan’s waist tightens just a little and Dan moves his hand round to the front of Phil’s shorts. 

He’s so glad Phil’s wearing shorts and not jeans, because it means he can slide his hand down the front of them with ease, no belt or button or zip to fumble with. He’s just made it inside Phil’s boxers, the tips of his fingers brushing against Phil’s still soft dick when he feels pressure around his wrist and his hand being tugged back out.

He pulls his head up from Phil’s neck and Phil is taking a step back, still with Dan’s hand in his grip. Dan frowns, confused, his heart thudding painfully against his sternum. The rejection that courses through him is bitter and biting and he wants to run away.

“Dan,” Phil says, and his voice isn’t angry, it’s gentle. “Don’t.”

“I don’t-- what. Why not?”

Phil drops Dan’s hand and steps forward right into his space again. He takes Dan’s face in his hands and strokes his thumbs over his cheekbones. “Not like this. I don’t want you like this.”

Dan’s stomach drops. Phil can obviously tell.

“I don’t mean it like that. I don’t mean-- it’s not about me, it’s about you. I don’t want to take advantage of… whatever. Whatever’s going on with you to make you feel this way.”

“I want to feel something else,” Dan says, voice weak and shaky. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You don’t have to.” Phil takes Dan’s hand and pulls him forward, into his flat properly. Dan’s been stood against the door so long his legs have gone stiff and he stumbles as Phil leads him toward the sofa. 

Phil sits him down and brings him a glass a minute later. It’s purple and Dan assumes it’s Ribena, just like it’s been the other two times Phil has offered him a drink. He takes a sip and instantly tastes the sharp bite of alcohol mixed in with the familiar flavour of blackcurrant. 

“I spiked it a little,” Phil says softly. “Thought it might help.”

“Thanks.” He takes another sip, then sniffles and wipes his nose on the long baggy sleeve of his black jumper. He’s already made a complete twat of himself anyway, so there’s really no use trying to be discreet. 

“Need some kleenex?”

Dan shakes his head pathetically. “This works fine. It’s my depression jumper anyway.” He pulls the hood up over his curls and looks up at Phil, who’s still stood there looking down at him. “See?”

Phil gives him a little smile. “Very edgy. What’s that say on the sleeve?”

Dan stretches his arm out so Phil can read the rather gothic looking red lettering that runs down the arm of the jumper.

“Drink from me and… live forever.” He chuckles. “Depression jumper or cruising for vampires jumper?”

Dan chuckles back weakly. He appreciates Phil trying to make a joke, but he still feels so thoroughly mortified he can barely even look at him. He takes another long sip of his drink, hoping the alcohol will calm his nerves a little. Probably he should just chug it back quickly and get the hell out of here. 

“Are you hungry?” Phil asks.

Dan shakes his head. He puts down his glass and moves to stand up. “It’s fine, I should really--”

“Stop,” Phil says, putting a hand on Dan’s shoulder so he can’t get up. “What’re you doing, mate?”

Dan looks up, right into Phil’s eyes. “You don’t have to… It’s fine, Phil. I don’t want to bother you anymore.”

Phil hasn’t moved his hand from Dan’s shoulder. “You said you didn’t want to be alone.”

“I was just-- I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not your problem.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

Dan frowns. He’s not entirely sure if Phil means about tonight or about… well, the whole thing. “What d’you mean?” he asks quietly.

“Do you want to be alone? Be honest.”

Dan pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his heels on the edge of the sofa. “No.”

“Alright then.” Phil steps back and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’m hungry. You?”

He considers it for a second and realizes that actually, he is. It’s been quite a long time since he ate much of anything at all. “Yeah.”

“What do you want?”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It’s your birthday, you have to choose. I don’t make the rules.”

Dan chooses Thai and Phil orders it. Dan offers to go back to his flat and get his wallet so he can pay and Phil tells him point blank to shut up. That makes Dan laugh, properly, and he can feel some of the tension ease up after that. 

Phil offers to put something on the telly and Dan agrees. Phil tries to make him pick a film or a series but Dan says, “It’s my birthday so I get to choose, and my choice is for  _ you _ to choose.”

“At least give me a hint.”

“Pick your all time favourite.”

So Phil puts a battered looking dvd into the player and they sit next to each other on the sofa, eating their food and watching Buffy. Dan eats absolutely everything, even though Phil had probably ordered enough for at least four people. 

It’s not like he’s getting laid tonight, and he’s already shown himself to be the exact opposite of sexy, so who cares if he’s got a bit of a food baby, right?

It feels a little strange to be back on this sofa again, sat beside Phil in silence but not feeling any of the things he’d been feeling those other times. There’s no undercurrent of tension, no real feeling of uncertainty or anticipation. It’s not really what he’d been looking for when he threw on his clothes and stumbled over here tonight, but he can’t deny it’s nice. Maybe it feels like what he  _ should _ have been looking for.

A couple episodes in and all the food’s gone. The sun has set fully by now and it’s dark and warm in Phil’s flat. It even kind of smells nice, like something vaguely sweet and a little smoky.

Phil’s not sat as close to Dan as he had been the other times. It feels deliberate, like he’s really going above and beyond to communicate some kind of respect for Dan’s emotional outburst earlier. 

It’s sweet. It’s thoughtful and considerate and makes some kind of fondness bloom in Dan’s chest that he tries to ignore. But it’s definitely not what he wants. He’d gotten a taste of Phil’s arms around him and it’d felt so fucking good and so fucking right that he wants more. Maybe just for tonight, if Phil will let him, he can make himself vulnerable enough to just… be. To be with Phil without wondering what it means or how much it’ll hurt later when he can’t have it anymore. 

He looks over at Phil, who seems to notice Dan’s movement right away, because he looks back just a fraction of a second later. 

They just look at each other. Dan doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants, which really is not news to him, but still. Right now it’s just incredibly frustrating. 

Phil seems to know. He lifts up his arm and says softly, “C’mere.” 

Dan goes. He scootches across the cushions and tucks himself up under Phil’s arm. He pulls his legs up and rests his head on Phil’s shoulder and Phil squeezes around him and it’s perfect. 

One more episode in and Phil leans his head down to rest atop Dan’s curls.

A couple more episodes play through and Dan slips an arm between the couch and Phil’s back. It only takes a few minutes before he builds the confidence to wrap the other arm around Phil’s stomach and join his hands against Phil’s waist.

Now he’s holding onto Phil properly, gripping him like a life preserver, like he’s bobbing out in the waves of the open ocean and Phil is his last chance at survival.

Fuck. That’s not it. That can’t be it.

Phil’s just a guy, right? A guy with soft hands and a big dick and some sort of weird kink for helping pathetic people. He’s just a stranger.

Tomorrow, Dan tells himself. Tomorrow he’ll go back to being a stranger. Tonight he’s probably the most wonderful person Dan’s ever come across in his life, and he’s not willing to deny himself that. 

It  _ is _ his birthday after all. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Dan. Dan.”

Dan lifts his head. It’s heavy and his eyes don’t want to open but he forces them to and there’s Phil. There’s Phil’s face right in front of his, so close and somehow so familiar already.

“Hm?” is all Dan can manage to get out.

“You’ve been asleep for a while,” Phil murmurs. “Do you wan--”

“Sorry, sorry.” Dan pulls back a little. His neck is kinked and he can already tell his legs are stiff from being curled up for so long. He slides his hand into his pocket to check the time on his phone only to remember that he doesn’t have it -- that it’s probably just a pile of shattered glass in the corner of his flat right now.

“What time is it?” he croaks. 

“Dunno.” Phil’s voice is deep and gravelly. “Late.”

Dan shuffles over a little and Phil’s arm drops from around his shoulder. He plants his feet on the floor and is about to stand when Phil says, “Where are you going?”

Dan looks over at him. “Home?”

“You don’t have to.”

Dan’s too tired for this. He’s too tired to make a rational decision. He finds his teeth sinking down into the give of his lip because he really wants to give in. He doesn’t want to sleep alone tonight and he’s almost groggy enough to forget why this is a bad idea. 

“Dan.”

Dan doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows in question. 

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

Before Dan can stop himself, he’s asking, “Do you want me to?”

Phil answers, “Yes,” without hesitation. “Please. Stay.” He holds out his hand.

Dan takes it, and lets Phil pull him up off the sofa and lead him to the corner of the flat that contains his bed.

God it’s a nice bed, so much nicer than Dan’s. It’s bigger and it has nice clean, colourful sheets with a mattress that sits atop an expensive looking wooden frame. Dan feels tired down to his bones looking at that bed and he can’t fucking wait to climb into it.

It’s a minute before he even realizes they’re both just stood there hand in hand, staring at the bed but not actually making any moves to climb into it. Dan turns his head and sees that it’s Phil who’s biting his lip now. 

“What?” Dan asks.

Phil huffs a little breathy noise, like a tiny nervous laugh. “Just. Just trying to figure out-- what I should… like what are you comfortable with me wearing or not wearing.”

“Wha-- this is your flat, Phil. You can wear whatever the hell you want. Or don’t want.”

Phil smiles, somewhat sheepishly. “Right. What about you? Are you… are you warm in that jumper?”

He hadn’t really thought about it until this very moment, he’d been so distracted by a whole slew of other, more pressing emotions and sensations. He is, though. The heat wave may have broken by now, but it’s still summer and they’re all the way up on the eighteenth floor of a building with no aircon. It’s definitely warm and his jumper is heavy, as a depression jumper should be. 

He nods. 

Phil looks him in the eye. “Can I take it off?”

And suddenly that feeling is back, that static crackle of attraction sparking between them. Dan nods again.

Phil steps forward and curls his fingers under the hem. Dan raises his arms and Phil pulls the thing up and over Dan’s head with surprising deftness and lets it drop to the floor. He stares at Dan’s chest a moment, lets his hand trail down it, fingertips dragging lightly across the skin of his stomach.

“Better,” he says.

Dan doesn’t ask permission to take Phil’s shirt off, he just goes right ahead and does it. He doesn’t ask permission to slip his fingers around the band of Phil’s shorts and pull those down either, he just does it, so that Phil’s left stood there in a rather fitted pair of red Calvin’s.

Phil doesn’t let him stare too long before wordlessly pushing Dan’s sweatpants down his thighs. Dan does the rest of the work to get them down around his ankles and step out of them. Phil’s eyes rake up and down and Dan can feel heat in the pit of his stomach.

“Get into bed,” Phil says, gently but still with an edge of authoritativeness that Dan would have never thought he’d find sexy until this exact moment.

He climbs up onto the bed and under Phil’s blue and green duvet and it feels like fucking heaven even though he knows in ten minutes he’ll be way too hot. He lies flat on his back and lays his head down on the pillow. He feels instantly tired again, even as Phil slides in beside him and he can feel the intoxicating feeling of skin on skin.

Phil lies on his side, propped up on one elbow with his head in his hand, looking down at Dan. He reaches out and traces his finger along Dan’s collarbone slowly, then down. Down across his chest and over his nipple. Dan tries not to let his reaction give him away. He fails of course, breath hitching as Phil rubs against it for just a moment before trailing his fingers down lower. He stops around Dan’s navel and just lays his hand flat across Dan’s stomach.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

Dan is confused, but not about to question anything right now, so he turns over onto his side so his back is facing Phil. He feels the bed shifting a little and then Phil’s chest is pressed up against his back, his arm slinging across his waist.

Of all the things he’d been anticipating after stripping Phil’s clothes off and letting Phil do the same for him, spooning hadn’t been one of them. It feels almost unspeakably intimate, and of all the things they’ve done, this more than any other sends a jolt of genuine fear shooting in his gut.

Losing this will hurt. He can’t get used to this. He can’t survive that again.

“Phil,” he whispers. He puts his hand overtop of Phil’s and sinks his fingers into the spaces between Phil’s, despite what he’s about to say.

“What?”

“You know I’m not-- I’m not looking for anything.” His heart pounds and the guilt burns instantly, hot and thick. Maybe something else too, something like knowing he’s probably lying and denying himself of something wonderful, but it’s too late. He’s said it and he’ll have to live with the consequences of however hurt Phil is by those words. 

But Phil just squeezes around Dan’s middle and pushes his knees up into the backs of Dan’s and says, “That’s alright. Goodnight, Dan. Happy birthday.”

 

Dan’s not sure exactly what wakes him up. He’s hot beneath the duvet, feels sweat beginning to form at his temples. His brain is still foggy, too full of the heaviness of a good night’s sleep and the vague memory of fading dreams to remember where he is and why the sheets beneath him feel different than they usually do. 

Then he feels it -- warmth on his neck, the breath of another person, and he remembers. He shifts a little and his back presses into something warm and solid. He keeps his eyes closed, trying to keep himself suspended in this dreamy half-awake state. 

He’s starting to wake up though, starting to take note of all the places Phil’s body is touching his. He shifts a little more and it’s then that he understands what had woken him up -- Phil’s hand on his stomach, fingers slipped just under the band of his pants, tracing gentle strokes along his tacky skin. 

He’s awake because he’s hard as a fucking rock and judging from the stiffness pressed up against his ass cheek, Phil is too. 

He keeps his eyes closed. He wonders if Phil knows he’s awake. He kind of wants to know how far Phil’s going to let his fingers slide into Dan’s underwear. There’s no way for Dan to tell him to keep going without giving away the fact that he’s awake, unfortunately. Phil would have no way of knowing how much Dan would like that, how much waking up with Phil’s hand wrapped around him would excite him.  

Phil’s fingers stay where they are, just tracing along the skin beneath the band of his briefs, which is just as well, Dan knows. Phil’s not that kind of person. Not without being told beforehand, anyway.

Dan doesn’t want to break the kind of hazy magic they find themselves in right now by talking. He can feel the slight dampness between his back and Phil’s chest, hear Phil’s slow steady breaths right next to his ear and it’s intoxicating. It’s been so long since he woke up feeling anything but hollow and alone, he almost wishes he could stay perpetually suspended in this moment. 

He wants that, but at the same time, his cock is actually starting to hurt for how hard he is. He doesn’t even know if Phil wants him like that anymore. His body clearly does, but it’s also entirely possible that Phil has decided Dan is too much of a mess to bother with any longer. Maybe last night had just been about pity and today, when Dan finally gives in and makes it clear that he is awake, Phil will politely send him on his way. 

Dan wouldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t even be surprised.

He hopes he doesn’t do that though. He hopes he gets to put his hands or his mouth on that hardness that’s found its way into the cleft of his clothed ass. He hopes eventually Phil’s hand will slide down further and take hold of him and give him some bloody relief. He’s been craving this desperately ever since the toilets at the zoo. He hopes he hasn’t gone and fucked it all up for himself. 

Dan tilts his head back, just a little, just enough for Phil to know he’s awake. Phil pulls his hand away and shuffles back so that their bodies aren’t touching anymore. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Shit. Sorry.”

Dan hates that with every fiber in his being. He has no choice but to open his eyes now and face whatever is about to happen. He turns over and realizes he wasn’t ready for what he was about to see.

His breath gets caught in his throat. Phil is there, right there, looking impossibly good with his fringe pushed back off his face and a hint of stubble dusting his jaw and his big blue eyes staring right at Dan. 

Dan knows it’s a ridiculous reaction. He knows what Phil looks like. He knows that he likes how Phil looks, but this… this is something else. This feeling in his chest, the way his heart is thrumming so fast it’s painful…

It’s what he’s been afraid of all along, this feeling of falling. It’s absolutely terrifying but he also knows that he’s powerless to fight it right now and honestly, he’s tired of trying. He’s tired of keeping his guard up. 

So he leans into the fear and the overwhelming desire to press his mouth to Phil’s. Phil breathes in sharply through his nose in surprise as Dan fits Phil’s bottom lip between his, but Dan doesn’t stop. He’s not going to stop unless Phil wants him to.

And it’s clear Phil doesn’t want him to. The surprise quickly fades and he kisses back, wrapping his arm low around Dan’s back and pulling him in closer.

Now they’re pushed up against each other and Dan can feel everything. He can feel the hair on Phil’s chest. He can feel the scratch of Phil’s stubble and the softness of Phil’s tongue as it teases against his. His head is full of the taste of Phil’s mouth and the sounds they’re making together, all punctuated by the frantic pounding of his pulse in his ears. 

He can feel Phil’s cock, long and stiff and pressed up against his through two thin pairs of pants. It feels incredible and even just that hint of pressure and friction is enough to give Dan an endless list of cheeky ideas about what he wants to happen next.

But somehow, the kissing is better. The kissing is like nothing he’s ever felt, and he thinks he could ignore his raging hard on forever if it meant he never had to stop kissing Phil like this. He could ignore everything else forever and just live like this, with Phil’s lovely mouth attached to his and he’d die a happy man. 

He loses all sense of time after that. It’s almost as if he’s fallen back to sleep, but their mouths and their tongues and their lips never stop. Dan holds Phil’s face in his hands and Phil drags his fingertips up and down Dan’s back. It’s hot under the covers with their long bodies moving against each other, but Dan has goosebumps all down the length of his arms.

This is what his birthday should have been, Dan thinks. Not curled up in the fetal position alone in his bed, heart aching and head pounding, but clinging to Phil’s broad shoulders, licking into his mouth, his lip the willing recipient of the bite of Phil’s teeth. It’s a day late, but at least he has it now.  

At least he has it  _ for _ now, and he’s not going to think about whatever comes next. 

Dan’s not sure he can keep ignoring the throbbing need between his legs when Phil starts moaning softly into his mouth. It does something to him, something visceral and primal in the deepest parts of him to hear proof that Phil is as into this as he is.

If hearing it is hot, feeling it is almost more than Dan can handle. He feels Phil’s hands move down then, his fingers hooking round the elastic of Dan’s pants and tugging them down without stopping to ask Dan if it’s ok. 

Dan is glad. It’s definitely ok, and he’s glad for not having to do it himself. 

He waits for the relief of Phil’s hand to grip him, or maybe even his mouth… but it doesn’t come. Instead Phil moves on to pulling his own briefs down, which is somehow even sexier. He hasn’t pulled them off, just down, just far enough that both of their cocks are freed and rubbing up against one another.

They’re still kissing. The seal of their lips doesn’t break, not even when Phil pushes against Dan’s shoulders, pinning him down on his back and rolling right on top of him. The air rushes from Dan’s lungs as Phil’s weight settles on his chest and he’s almost disturbed by the feeling of peace that blankets him.

It only lasts a moment. Phil pulls away for the first time in god knows how long, reaching down to pull Dan’s pants off his legs completely. Dan tugs at Phil’s but he’s not in a position to actually get them off. He tugs ineffectually and makes a whiny sound low in his throat. He wants Phil just as naked as he is. 

Phil chuckles, but does as Dan wants and pulls them off. He nudges Dan’s legs open and settles between them, grinning down at Dan before rolling his hips forward and up. 

It’s electric, the feeling of their cocks grinding together, so much so that Dan’s eyes roll back a little and his neck arches, pushing the back of his head deep into the pillow. His hands slide around Phil’s waist to press against the small of his back, to hold him in place, to tell him wordlessly that he’s not allowed to go anywhere.

Phil leans down, kisses Dan’s earlobe. “What do you want?” he whispers. 

Dan’s brain isn’t working. What does he want? He wants this -- nothing more and nothing less. He doesn’t want to think. Phil’s lips are on his neck, kissing just below his jaw and he doesn’t understand how he could want anything more than this, anything different than this. 

“What?”

Phil grinds himself against Dan again and this time Dan helps him along by pushing down on his ass, forcing their bodies together as tightly as he can. A breathy sound escapes his lips and he’s completely forgotten Phil had asked him a question.

Phil hasn’t forgotten. “I told you I’d make it good for you if we waited. You’ve been waiting a long time. I wanna know exactly what you want, Dan.”

His mind reels with the possibilities, but only for a moment. When he closes his eyes and forces himself to focus, to picture what he wants from Phil more than anything, all he can see is… this. 

“I just want you to kiss me.”

To his eternal credit, Phil doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t look at Dan like the freak he feels like or even ask, “Really?” he just smiles and cradles Dan’s jaw gently and kisses him.

Dan’s absolutely not going to analyze this. He can’t ask himself what it means that of all his deepest darkest fantasies, tender kissing is what wins out. 

There’s also humping, which Dan is grateful for, and feels better than such an adolescent sex act has any right to.

More time passes, and again, Dan hasn’t a clue how much. He’s lost in Phil, drunk on the taste of him and the feeling of his hands roaming up and down his body and the sounds they both make every time Phil rolls his hips in just the right way. 

At some point he genuinely starts to lose feeling in his lips, and it’s like Phil knows, because his mouth moves down, kissing at Dan’s neck slowly and gently. It’s not the biting and the sucking that it was in the aquarium toilets, it’s something much more dangerous than that.

It’s intimate. It’s loving.

It’s getting Dan off. He can’t believe it, but Phil’s mouth on his neck and slow but steady thrusts against his cock are getting him close. He wraps a hand around the back of Phil’s neck and pulls him back up to his mouth for one more kiss before pushing on his chest a little. He pushes Phil away, just enough to create a space between their bodies big enough for Dan’s hand to reach down and wrap around both of their cocks. 

The dampness of their sweat is enough to ease the glide of Dan’s hand up and down the length of them both. He’s never been more glad for having such big hands. Phil braces himself on his elbows but lets his head drop back down, like he’s physically incapable of keeping his mouth off of Dan’s now.

He licks into Dan’s mouth, sliding his tongue against Dan’s and groaning as Dan squeezes and jerks them both together. It’s more dirty than all the kissing that’s come before, but still it’s kissing, and still it’s perfect.

Then he pulls back and looks right into Dan’s eyes. “God,” he croaks, “please,  _ please _ tell me you’re close.”

Dan nods. “You?”

“Have been for bloody ages.”

If Dan  _ wasn’t _ so close he’d laugh. It seems they’d both been waiting for the other.

“Kiss me,” Dan whispers. 

So he does. He kisses Dan and humps into his fist and it doesn’t take long after that. Dan comes first, biting down on Phil’s lip and shuddering violently, spurting warm and wet all over the both of them. He doesn’t realize his hand has gone slack until Phil’s hand wraps around it and starts jerking again. It’s just like that time on Phil’s sofa, Phil’s fist squeezing around Dan’s with Dan’s come easing the movements, only this time Dan’s cock is there too. 

“Yeahyeahyeah,” Phil babbles, once Dan’s finally come down from his own orgasm enough to properly help Phil chase his. “God, Dan, you’re so--”

Dan never gets to hear what he is. Instead he gets to hear a choked off grunt. He gets to feel Phil shooting come up onto his stomach and pressing his face into Dan’s neck. He gets to feel Phil’s body tense and then slowly relax. 

Phil groans softly and rolls off of Dan and onto his back when he’s done.The sudden lightness, the lack of Phil’s weight on top of him triggers some kind of irrational panic. He feels utterly empty and alone. He squeezes his eyes shuts and forces a breath in because he absolutely  _ cannot _ do this. He can’t have a panic attack thirty seconds after coming all over Phil’s cock.

His only options are to pull Phil close, wrap his arms around him and cling on for dear life… or run away.  


	7. Chapter 7

He has to run away. He’d done exactly what he promised himself he wouldn’t do, and now he needs to fix it. He needs to protect himself, because it was never supposed to be like this. He was never supposed to let himself feel anything.

Kissing Phil had been a mistake. Crawling into Phil’s arms when he was feeling sad and empty and desperately craving affection was about the worst thing he could have done, and now he needs to set it right. He can’t let himself fall any further. If he leaves now maybe he can cling on to the ledge, pull himself back up before he drowns in the blue of those eyes.

He sits up with a jerk, throws a leg over the side of the bed. He’s naked and streaked with the evidence of what they’d just done together and he feels the burning need to wash it off as soon as he possibly can.

He doesn’t say anything. What could he possibly say? He’s a shitty person and Phil deserves better than being jerked around like this. The sooner he gets out the better. He grabs his sweatpants off the floor and yanks them up, not bothering with the pants. They’re somewhere tangled in Phil’s sheets and it’d take too much time to find them. He doesn’t have time.

He’s just pulling his jumper over his head when he hears them, the words that make his heart sink, make guilt burn his insides. 

“So that’s it then? You’re leaving, just like that?”

He doesn’t want to turn around, but he has to. He’s never heard Phil’s voice sound like that and he really does hate it. He hates to think he’s caused Phil pain. “I’m sorry, I just…”

Phil is sat up against the headboard, his arms folded over his chest. He’s got his glasses on now and his fringe is still pushed back off his forehead. There’s no way around the fact that he looks hurt — angry even. “Just what.”

Dan pulls the long sleeves of his jumper over his hands and balls his fists up into the material. “I told you I didn’t— that I wasn’t looking for anything,” he says weakly.

“Yeah, and I said that was fine. And then you wake up this morning and kiss me,” Phil says. His voice is deep as ever but now it’s laced with a hardness that makes Dan’s gut clench.  

“I’m… sorry.” He can’t think of anything else to say. He really has no good argument.

Phil sighs, scrubs his hand across his jaw. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’d just like to know what the hell your deal is so I can adjust my expectations.”

“Expectations?” Dan asks before he can think better of it. For some reason he hadn’t fully considered that Phil would even  _ have  _ expectations. When exactly had he become such a selfish bastard?

“I just don’t enjoy being used,” Phil says, looking dead into Dan’s eyes. 

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to.” He knows that’s exactly what he’s done, and that feels even worse than the cloying fear that he’s getting too attached.

“I know talking’s not really your thing,” Phil says, and his voice is a shade gentler now, “but maybe you could try just a little. Just for this. Unless you really want to just leave and pretend none of this ever happened.”

Dan bites down hard on the corner of his lip. It’d be the worst thing he’s ever done to be sure, but this is his chance. Phil is giving him this out, and a part of him longs to take it. It’ll hurt for a day or two, and he’ll have to be sure to avoid his neighbour from then on, but it would mean never having to face the potential of losing something great. 

But that’s not true, really. Because Phil already is great, and walking away now would still amount to losing that. 

“Is that what you want?” Phil asks softly.

Dan doesn’t hesitate more than a few seconds before saying, “No.”

“Then, could you come back here.” Phil pats the space next to him. “Please? I promise I won’t touch you or anything.”

So Dan climbs back up onto the bed and sits next to Phil. He pulls his hood up over his head and hugs his knees to his chest, trying to make himself as small and unseen as he can. He leaves a fair amount of space between himself and Phil. He’s still sticky under his clothes and his lips feel like they’ve been rubbed raw.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Dan’s hugging his legs, staring straight ahead and not daring even steal as much as a glance at Phil. It’s the first silence between them that feels not just awkward, but excruciatingly so.

Finally he can’t take it anymore. He has to say something, even if it’s not helpful whatsoever. “I don’t know what to say.”

Phil takes a moment to respond, seemingly to think about what he wants to hear from Dan. “Maybe you could start with… why you were so keen to leave without even saying anything.”  

“I got scared,” Dan mumbles. He turns his head to the side in time to catch Phil nodding.

“Right. You’re not looking for anything.”

“Yeah.”

“But you… still want to see me sometimes?”

It’s a simple question, and yet Dan has no idea how to answer it. He does want to see Phil — of course he does. But it’s not actually that simple. “I… think so.”

“Do you just want, like… a mate? Like do you want to just be friends?” Phil asks.

This time the answer is simple. “No.” 

“But you don’t want something, like… real.”

“It’s nothing like-- it’s not personal. I just can’t. I can’t do that right now. I’m sorry.”

Phil tilts his head to the side and gives Dan a considering look. “Who says I even want that?”

That renders Dan completely incapable of response. Again, selfish. Just so fucking selfish. And self-absorbed. Which is almost funny coming from someone who hates himself as much as Dan does.  

“Right. Fair enough,” Dan says finally. “Is that what you want, though? Like, do you just wanna be friends?”

Phil smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “No. You’re hot, and fun. I like you, Dan.”

It’s impossible for Dan not to return Phil’s smirk at that. 

“And frankly, that can mean you whatever you want it to mean,” Phil continues. “Alright?”

Dan nods. He leans over a little, enough to extend his elbow and nudge it into Phil’s ribs. “I like you too, a bit. And… I don’t really know what that means right now.”

Phil shrugs. “That’s ok.”

“Ok,” Dan murmurs.

Phil clears his throat, sweeping his fingers through his fringe, pushing up the strands of hair that have managed to flop back over onto his forehead. “So, like, about last night.”

Dan feels his shoulders tense up instantly. “Yeah,” he croaks.

“D’you wanna… talk about it?”

Dan shakes his head emphatically.

“Right, no talking. You wanna stay all mysterious, I get it.”

Dan snorts. “Mysterious. Right.”

“I don’t know anything about you, mate. I don’t even know your last name.”

“But you met my mum.”

Phil’s smile lights up his entire his face. “I did at that, didn’t I?”

Dan nods.

“Will you just tell me one thing?” Phil asks

“Maybe.”

“Tell me what birthday was yesterday. How old you are now.”

Dan figues that one’s ok. It’s not really a secret or anything. “I’m twenty six. You?”

“Ugh, I guess I should have guessed I’d have to tell you too,” Phil groans. “I’m thirty.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Fuck off,” Dan says without thinking.

Phil laughs. “Sorry, it’s true.”

“You don’t look it,” Dan says, studying Phil’s face carefully. Maybe with the quiff, he looks a little closer to it. 

“I don’t feel it.” 

“I wish I didn’t feel as old as I am,” Dan says, and even he can hear how forlorn he sounds.

Phil cocks his eyebrow. “But we’re not talking about anything, right?”

Dan shakes his head.

“Do you still want to leave?”

“I probably should, right?”

Phil shrugs. “Up to you, mate.”

“Do you not have plans or anything?”

“Are you judging me?”

Dan snorts. “I’m not in a position to judge anyone right now, trust me.”

“Well, I don’t have plans, really. Just have to…” he trails off. “Anyway. I’ve got things I could do but nothing I  _ need _ to do.”

“Like… Amazing Phil?” Dan asks quietly, suddenly remembering his aborted attempt to uncover the mystery of Phil’s apparent fame.

What little colour had been in Phil’s cheeks quickly drains out and Dan regrets his words. 

“Did you— did… what did you—”

“Nothing, I swear, I’m sorry,” Dan interjects. “I just remembered, from the aquarium you know, that girl.”

Phil nods, rolling his top lip across his teeth over and over. Clearly Dan had said just exactly the wrong thing.

“Is it… like is it a secret? Do you not want me to look into it?” 

Phil pulls his knees up to his own chest then, hugging them tightly. He looks at Dan and shakes his head. “Not really.”

“I’m not the only one who’s a mystery, then.”

Phil smiles weakly. “So we’re not friends, we’re not gonna talk, and we don’t want anything real,” Phil muses.

Dan is going to choose to ignore the weird pang he feels in his chest when he hears Phil say  _ we _ don’t want anything real. He’s going to pack that away and hope it means nothing. 

“So where does that leave us, exactly?” Phil asks.

Dan shrugs. “Never been very good with labels.”

“Me neither.”

“We’re just… Dan and Phil, I guess. Right?” Dan says, because to state bluntly that all he wants is Phil’s body feels too cruel and also… inaccurate. It’s the gist of their conversation, but it’s still not quite right. 

“I can do that,” Phil says. 

Dan smiles. “Me too.” He hopes to god he’s right.

 

For some reason it’s not until he’s stood dripping wet on Phil’s bathmat with a towel wrapped around his waist that Dan remembers he doesn’t actually have any clean clothes to change into. He’d accepted rather eagerly when Phil had offered his shower, as it really hadn’t felt great to have so much sticky wetness clinging to his skin.

He has a moment’s panic before realizing that’s ridiculous, considering what they’d done just an hour or so earlier. He opens the door and steps out along with the steam. Phil is still sat on his bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs outstretched, ankles crossed, scrolling on his phone. He’s wearing just his pants and fuck -- he really is fit. Not in the traditional sense of cut abs and beefy arms but in a softer way, a way that has Dan wanting to drop his towel and crawl on top of him for round two.

Phil looks up when Dan gets nearer the bed and clears his throat. He cocks an eyebrow, lips twitching up into the beginnings of a smirk. “That’s a look.”

“My clothes are covered in come, mate,” Dan counters, not bothering in the slightest with diplomacy or decorum.

Phil chuckles. “You want me to find you something to wear?”

“Unless you want me to just… be naked.”

Phil’s eyes drift down from Dan’s face then, down along the line of his chest still damp from the shower. “I wouldn’t be opposed.” His eyes snap back up and he’s grinning now. “Does that mean you’re hanging around for a while?”

“Oh,” Dan says, suddenly unsure. “I don’t have to, if--”

“No, no. You should. You should, like, let me take you out for a drink or something. Belated birthday thing, or whatever.”

Dan’s not sure what to say. He’s still a little afraid of how nice that sounds, of how much he’d really like to do that.

Phil seems to sense his trepidation. “You know, as a friendly, non-dating, non-friend type of thing.” There’s laughter in his voice, which Dan finds oddly comforting.

It also makes him realize how fucking stupid it is for Dan to insist they can’t be friends. “Shut up,” Dan mutters. “We’re not non-friends. We can be mates. I just…”

“You still want me to touch your dick, right?” Phil’s smile is so wide now Dan can barely see his eyes anymore. The tip of his tongue pokes out between his teeth and his cheeks are a lovely pink colour, like he’s genuinely not bothered by Dan being a bloody indecisive little asshole. 

Dan decides to be bold, to try to turn this conversation around before he has a chance to make any more of an ass of himself. He untucks the corner of the towel and lets it fall to the floor. “You gonna get me something to wear or not?”

Phil doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring right at Dan’s cock. He’s even biting his lip a little. He takes his time, seemingly genuinely enjoying the view before looking back up at Dan’s face. “Do I have to?”

“No,” Dan says, voice impressively low. He’s not even sure he could get hard again yet, but the teasing is too easy to resist.

“I’m hungry,” Phil says.

Dan snorts, full-on fucking snorts. So that’s it for the seduction, however hollow it may have been anyway. 

“I meant for food!” Phil yelps.

“Sure you did,” Dan says. He’s feeling strangely at ease now despite his complete nudity, so he pushes Phil’s legs out of the way and sits down on the edge of the bed. “What d’you wanna eat, Phil?”

“Shut up. I hate you. I meant I’m gonna find you something to wear so we can go out and get food.”

“Right,” Dan says, frowning playfully in disbelief, nodding in an oh-so-condescending way. “Totally.”

“I mean… for now. Ask me what I wanna eat later and maybe I’ll have a different answer.”

Dan hates how easy it is, how just those few words spoken in that tone cause a tug in his gut and a heat in his cheeks. “Maybe I will.”

“Good.” Phil’s voice has dropped an octave as well. They’re not really teasing anymore. “Because I feel like I still owe you.”

“For what?”

Phil sits up a little then, reaching out and gently running the tips of his fingers along Dan’s spine. Goosebumps erupt on his arms instantly. He can even feel his nipples harden. It’s fucking embarrassing, but it feels too good to worry about. 

“For the aquarium,” Phil murmurs.

“You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to.”

“I know.” He moves his fingers down to trace a path along Dan’s thigh. “I still feel like I have a promise to keep, though.”

Dan has to close his eyes. “Find me some clothes mate, or you’re gonna have to wait a while longer for proper food.”

Phil laughs breathily and Dan feels the bed shifting beneath him. He opens his eyes and watches as Phil walks over to his dresser. 

“Got anything black?” Dan asks.

He doesn’t choose something black -- far from it. Phil grins and tosses him a bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with a pixelated Charmander.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious, mate.” Dan can tell Phil is doing his utmost to school his features into something resembling stern. “What, you don’t like Pokemon?”

Dan pulls the offensively neon thing over his head grudgingly. “I do, actually, but that’s not the point.” He’s sat on Phil’s bed in just the shirt and nothing else. “This goes against every aesthetic I have.”

“I think it looks good,” Phil says. He’s got  a pair of pants clutched in his hand that he doesn’t appear to be in any hurry to hand over. “Really good.”

“You gonna give me some bottoms or what?”

 

They’re sat across from each other in a booth in a pizza place and Dan’s wearing the rather hideous and tight-fitting shirt and black jeans that don’t belong to him and he feels -- probably a little too happy about it. It doesn’t really feel like a date, but he can’t say he knows enough about Phil to call it a friendly hang-out, either. He doesn’t know what to say, what to ask.

He lets Phil decide. Maybe that’s the thing to do here. Maybe for once he can just -- chill. Go with the flow or something like that. 

Phil is chill. He seems to know what to say and what to ask. He takes a moment’s pause from talking about whatever he’d been talking about -- Pokemon, to be exact -- and takes an enormous bite of his pizza. A string of saucy cheese dangles down from his chin.

“You’re vile,” Dan says, with no conviction whatsoever. 

Phil laughs, wipes at it with the back of his hand.

“Use a napkin!” Dan shrieks.

“Ok mum,” Phil says still laughing. He picks one up and dots at his face with an air of exaggeration. “Happy?”

Dan just shakes his head.

“Don’t judge me,” Phil chuckles. “I love pizza.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Probably someone out there doesn’t, I reckon.”

“What kind of freak doesn’t like pizza?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t,” Phil says, taking another bite. “Considering how much I hate cheese.”

“Stop,” Dan says, horrified. “You don’t.”

“I do.”

“I changed my mind,” Dan says, sitting back and folding his arms over his chest. 

“Bout what?” Phil mumbles over a mouthful of dough.

“I don’t think we can be friends. I don’t think I can relate on any level to a person who hates cheese.”

Phil frowns. “Don’t say that.” 

Dan’s not even sure if he’s joking. Surely Phil knows he’s just joking?

“I don’t really have any friends here,” Phil says quietly.

Well shit. Maybe he’s actually not joking.

“I was kidding, mate.” Dan kicks lightly at Phil’s foot under the table. “I don’t actually have like, strong moral principles surrounding cheese -- or any dairy product for that matter.”

Phil looks relieved. “Good, ‘cause I’m lactose intolerant.”

Dan can’t help but laugh. Maybe he should feel weird about Phil’s admission, about the fact that Phil is seemingly already emotionally connected to Dan in some way, but… he just doesn’t. Maybe he’d used up all his capacity for panicking and overthinking earlier. Now he finds he just wants to -- be. And if that means making friends with the guy he also happens to be fucking? So be it. 

They can be friends and they can fuck. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. It doesn’t have to be complicated. People do that all the time. It’s kind of the perfect solution to all his problems, now that he thinks about it. He’d just been blinded by the pain of hearing her voice again and that’s why he freaked out, right?

“You can’t eat dairy and you don’t like cheese but you’re shoving pizza in your face like it’s going out of style,” Dan says. 

“I make exceptions for pizza. Oh, and ice cream. Wanna get ice cream after this?”

“I thought you wanted to buy me a drink.” Dan is smiling. He can’t help it. Phil is just -- he’s cute. He’s really cute, and it doesn’t even feel like an act. 

“Oh, right. Well, next time then, yeah?”

Dan nods. “Next time.”


	8. Chapter 8

Phil takes Dan to a quiet pub. It’s a dive, actually -- dark and kind of dank and they’re the youngest people there by at least twenty years. Phil gets something fruity and sweet and Dan is so endeared despite himself that he says, “I’ll have the same.”

They sit at a booth again, in the quietest, darkest corner of the bar. Dan thinks it’s strange for a moment before remembering the encounter at the aquarium and the look of distress on Phil’s face when Dan had mentioned the word amazing earlier. 

So maybe Phil likes hiding. That suits Dan just fine. He’s hiding too, after all.

He has to drink half his drink before he can work up the nerve to ask Phil the question that’s been lingering in the back of his mind.

“Why don’t you have friends here? What do you mean by here? Where do you have friends?”

Ok, maybe he has a few questions, and maybe they all come tumbling out of his mouth at the same time. 

Phil’s hair is still quiffed, pushed all the way up and over with an impressive amount of height, actually, so when his hand reaches up -- no doubt looking to nervously fiddle with the fringe that usually sits there -- his fingers just brush against the bare skin awkwardly. Dan knows the gesture because it’s one he himself had a hard time letting go off after finally embracing that he has hair that curls just like a hobbit’s and straightening it every day was more trouble than it was worth. 

“I mean here, like London,” he says quietly. 

Maybe Dan should’ve waited until Phil had a few more drinks before diving in with the super personal shit, but it’s too late now.

“Are you not from here?”

Phil shakes his head. “If you can’t tell that means I’ve done a good job masking my accent.”

Dan narrows his eyes. “What accent,” he says suspiciously. 

“I’m from the north, mate,” Phil says, employing said accent very strongly.

Dan laughs. “I went to uni in the north.”

“Where?”

“Manchester,” Dan replies with a surprising lack of hesitation. 

“No way.”

“Yes way. Why?”

“I grew up right next to there!” Phil says and he sounds genuinely excited by the revelation. Again -- cute.

“Where?”

“Rawtenstall!”

Dan laughs at Phil’s continued enthusiasm. “Is that where all your friends are?”

“Some. Some are in York ‘cause that’s where I went to uni. I’m old now though so mostly they’re scattered all over the earth.”

Dan nods. It’s not the same for him, not at all, but it makes sense. Phil has a perfectly normal reason for being lonely. Dan-- well, he has reasons. Different ones, probably not normal ones, but reasons nonetheless. 

“Where are you from, then?” Phil asks. “Not Manchester with that posh accent you’ve got.”

“Fuck off. I’m just articulate.”

“You  _ are _ from the south though, yeah?”

“Wokingham,” he admits reluctantly. “Near Reading.”

“I knew it.” Phil beams. He looks so happy. Is it even possible to get pissed off one cocktail, Dan wonders, because that’s how Phil looks. 

Dan’s staring at Phil as he fits his straw between his lips and sucks up the dregs of his drink before it’s just air and he’s making a rather terrible noise. “I need a refill, you want one?”

“I’m supposed to be getting _ you _ a drink.”

“You did. Now it’s my turn.”

Now it’s Phil’s turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously. “You’re going to get me something gross, aren’t you.”

“Course not.”

By the time he returns to the table, Phil’s finished his drink. Dan places the new glass down in front of him before slipping back into his side of the booth.

Phil looks down at the amber liquid with distrust. “What is it?”

“Whiskey,” Dan says. “Take a sip.” He just -- he wants Phil to get drunk. There’s no point denying that to himself. He wants to see Phil drunk. He wants to see what kind of stuff a drunk Phil says. 

Phil takes a sip and scrunches up his face in displeasure, his hand waving around in the air flamboyantly. “Ugh.” He puts the glass down. “Tastes like piss.”

“How d’you know what piss tastes like?” Dan asks, taking a sip from his own glass. It doesn’t taste bad, but he can see why Phil might not like it, especially after whatever it was they’d been drinking before. 

“Touchée.”

“Do you have some weird kinks you haven’t told me about?”

“Maybe.” Phil winks, or tries to anyway. Mostly it’s just an exaggerated blink. Then his eyes go wide. “Wait, no! Not a-- god. I don’t have a piss kink.”

“Sure,” Dan teases. “I totally believe you.”

“I hate you. I bet you  _ actually _ have weird kinks.”

Dan smirks. “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”

“I hope so.” He says it casually, almost as if it’s true. 

Dan has to take another sip of his drink to distract himself from how much he likes that. When he’s recovered he says, “You never answered my question.”

“I did,” Phil says. “I told you, that’s not my kink!”

“No not that,” Dan chuckles. “The friends thing, why you don’t have any here.”

“Oh.” Phil’s voice is quiet and Dan should really take the hint and shut up, but he’s so curious now. 

“Are you new to London as well?” Dan asks, hoping that helps put Phil at ease a little.

But he shakes his head. “It’s… complicated.”

“Another thing you don’t want to talk about?” Dan asks.

Phil nods. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s things I don’t wanna talk about either. Lots of things.”

Phil nods again and takes another sip of his drink. He obviously still hates the taste, but his reaction is toned down considerably.

Dan hates that. He hates that he’s given Phil any reason to feel less like himself. He doesn’t want Phil to push him, so what makes him think he has any right to push Phil?

“I can get you a different drink if you want,” he says gently. 

Phil shakes his head. “It tastes like shit but it’s making my head feel like, warm and floaty.”

“Oh that’s good, because I have a very important secret to get out of you. Being drunk will make that a lot easier.”

“What?” Phil asks cautiously.

“What’s your favourite Pokemon? You still haven’t said and this is vital information. I will be judging your answer harshly.”

“Growlithe,” Phil says without hesitation. 

“Interesting,” Dan muses.

“Is it?”

Dan nods. 

“So… what is your judgement?”

Dan grins. “We can be friends.”

 

“It’s true!”

“I’m sorry, but just… no, Phil. No. It’s not.”

“You don’t know.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“You gonna prove it, then?” Phil’s head is tipped back against the weathered brown material of the booth chair, his eyes heavy lidded, speech slow and thick with all the drinks they’ve had over the course of the afternoon.

“I don’t have a wii anymore,” Dan says sadly. “I don’t even have a telly.” His head is lolled back and to the side as well, staring at Phil. At some point he must have moved from his own side of the booth to slide in next to Phil, but he can’t actually remember when or why. 

“Well I do.”

“What are we waiting for then?” Dan asks.

Phil laughs. Dan watches his adam’s apple bob, the tendons in his neck tensing and relaxing as he pushes the happy breathy sound out of his throat. 

“You actually want to?” Phil asks.

“Course. I can’t just let you claim the Mario Kart throne without earning it. Which by the way, you absolutely won’t.”

“I fookin’ will, mate.”

“Alright, let’s go. I won’t listen to this blasphemy anymore.”

Phil groans. “But I’m comfy and my legs feel wobbly.”

Dan scoots off the seat and out of the booth and stands up. Admittedly his own legs feel a bit on the wobbly side, but he’d really like to take Phil’s drunk ass home now and absolutely annihilate him at one of his favourite video games — one he hasn’t been able to play in months.

He’d left all that behind of course. He wonders if she’s kept all the things he’d been too numb to care about packing. Did she throw out his toothbrush? Has she taken down the Kanye poster she’d grudgingly agreed to let him hang above their bed? Does she still sleep on the sheets they used to share?

Is there someone else sleeping on those sheets now?

Something warm and soft slips into his hand, pulling him from that place. He looks down and sees Phil’s fingers threading between his.

“You ok?” he asks gently. He squeezes Dan’s hand before letting go. They’re alone in this part of the pub but still, someone could come around the corner at any moment. Dan wouldn’t really care, but he guesses maybe Phil would. 

That’s another thing he doesn’t really know about Phil, not that there’s really a shortage in that department. Is he out? Do the people who ask him for photos in aquariums and god knows where else know that he invites strange men into his flat for sex?

Or — maybe not men. Maybe just — maybe just one man. 

“Dan?”

“Hmm?” He looks up from his now empty hand and into Phil’s eyes. “What?”

“Are you alright?”

He should say yes. That’s what he should say. But he’s drunk and he’s sad and Phil’s eyes are kind and they tell Dan it’s ok to be himself. 

“I don’t know.”

“Can we go back to mine and play Mario Kart?” Phil asks. “Please?”

Dan nods. He’s not even worried about how much he wants that. “Yeah. Let’s.”

It’s cloudy outside today. It should be a relief, but the air feels humid, thick with the promise of rain. Dan’s glad they don’t have far to go.

Phil keeps looking at him, stealing wordless glances like he’s afraid Dan’s going to disappear. Dan wonders if Phil knows that he can see each time Phil’s face turns in his direction. He wishes he could get through one day without giving Phil reason to worry that he’s going to fall apart. 

The heaviness of the moisture in the air around him does nothing to help the drunken floating in his head, and it would seem Phil is feeling the same. He stumbles a few times, catching the end of one shoe on the heel of the other. 

Dan chuckles. “Lightweight.” He nudges his shoulder into Phil’s fondly. He leans into it, perhaps a touch too long, but he doesn’t think Phil will mind. 

“Shut up,” Phil says, and he throws his arm across Dan’s shoulders. “Carry me, I’m too wobbly.”

Dan turns his head. Phil’s face is right there, so close to his. He smells like cologne and maybe just a tiny bit like sweat. His cheeks are pink and he needs a shave.

“Phil? Oh my god, Phil!”

Phil’s arm drops, his face goes ashen. He turns to look and so does Dan and there’s a couple of girls stood behind them a ways with their phones out and pointed at him and Phil.

“Oh my god, it is!” one of them squeals. 

“Phil, who is that?!”

They look young, even younger than the girl at the zoo. Maybe just young enough to excuse the way they’re gawking and shouting like Phil actually  _ is  _ in a cage.

Dan makes a split second decision, not bothering to ask Phil if it’s the right one. He grabs his hand and says, “Let’s go.”

Phil digs his nails into the back of Dan’s hand and nods and they run. They turn their backs on the wide eyed stares and the phones no doubt recording their every move and just... run.

They run and run and run, Phil’s hand gripping Dan’s like a vice. His chest fucking burns and the muscles in his calves are pulled tight like a drum but he doesn’t stop and neither does Phil. People are staring at them as they thunder down the pavement. Dan wonders what offends them more, the chaotic flailing of their limbs as they sprint at top speed… or simply their hands clasped tightly together.

They turn the corner onto their street after a few minutes and it’s then that Dan notices that Phil is laughing. Mostly he’s gasping for air actually, but in between those gasps he’s laughing. He drops Dan’s hand, but only so he can clutch his chest as he heaves for oxygen.

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” he wheezes. “Bloody hell. That was bad. That’s gonna be bad.”

Dan’s got a stitch in his side and his stomach churns with booze and pizza and he feels like he might genuinely die at any second. He hadn’t realized just how little breath he was taking in as he ran, high on adrenaline and the need to protect Phil from, well… something. He’s not sure exactly what, but he’d seen that look of fear in Phil’s eyes and been overcome with the urge to sweep him away. 

They keep making their way towards their building, but they’ walking now. When he’s recovered enough to speak, Dan croaks, “What’s gonna be bad?”

Phil just shakes his head. “I’ll worry about it later.”

“I’m sorry if I like, fucked something up—”

“No,” Phil cuts him off. “No. Thank you. For that. I wouldn’t have had the… balls. To just run away. I couldn’t have done that even though it’s what I wanted so… Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re famous, Phil,” Dan says quietly. He knows Phil doesn’t want to talk about it but it’s just so fucking weird he can’t help himself. 

“Ugh,” is all Phil says. “Come on, let’s get home before they find us.”

So there’s another thing for Dan to pack away and definitely not analyze right now.  _ Home. _

 

“Still want to come over?” Phil asks as they step out of the lift. 

“Do you not want me to?”

“Of course I do. I’m just trying to be polite and give you a chance to escape if you’d really rather not.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily,” Dan says. “You’re going down, buddy.”

Dan makes himself at home on the sofa once they get back to Phil’s flat, melting into the cushions and breathing a sigh of relief. It’s been a long, strange day with emotions swinging wildly back and forth. He feels tired down to his bones and ready to do something he used to love, to lose himself in something fun and meaningless for a while and completely devoid of feelings. 

He’s glad he’s not alone, though. He’s glad he can hear Phil puttering about in the kitchen. It’s comforting. He closes his eyes and waits for Phil to join him.

A few minutes later he does, carrying a glass of ribena in each hand and setting them down with a comical amount of caution on the coffee table.

“D’you mind if I take my jeans off?” Phil asks, his hands already working his belt open.

Dan shakes his head. “Not if I can take mine off too.” He’s sweaty from the humidity and the running and it’s still hot up here despite the fact Phil’s got all his windows open. Taking off the restrictive denim wrapped around his legs would feel pretty damn good right about now. 

Phil smirks. “My plan is working.”

“You know you don’t actually need a plan to get me in my pants, right?”

“Shh just accept that I’m too clever for you. It’s ok.”

Dan rolls his eyes and lifts his hips to push the jeans off. Phil’s hands have stilled on his own zip as he watches Dan working his legs out of the trousers.

“Enjoying the show?” Dan asks, and he kicks the jeans onto Phil’s feet.

“Always.” Phil doesn’t even sound like he’s playing along. His answering tone is so sincere Dan wonders if they’re even going to make it as far as turning on the television much less starting up the game.

He can’t say he’ll be too put out if they don’t. “Your turn,” he says huskily.

But Phil laughs and the tension is broken. He takes off his jeans without making it a show, but Dan still enjoys watching. 

Phil sets up the game and tosses Dan a controller before flopping himself down onto the other side of the sofa. It’s farther apart than they’ve ever sat, and Dan finds himself just a shade disappointed.

But then he hears the old familiar, “Let’s a go!” and it stirs a happy nostalgia in his chest. This will be fun. Maybe it’ll make him feel a little more like the old Dan.

She used to play with him sometimes. She didn’t love it like he did, and she was truly shit at it, but she’d laugh good naturedly when she drove off the edge of things and into the water. She’d curse out Baby Peach when she got lapped and she’d bite the controller in frustration sometimes, just like Dan. 

He misses that.

But he also misses just playing by himself. He misses not having this heaviness in his chest every time he thinks of things he used to enjoy. 

“Who do you usually play as?” Phil asks.

“Luigi. You?”

Phil shrugs. “I’m not really bothered.”

He chooses Yoshi and as expected, Dan absolutely destroys him in the first race. 

“Bloody hell,” Phil mutters afterwards. “Uh… I was just warming up. That doesn’t count.”

“Count towards what?” Dan laughs smugly. “Are we keeping score?”

“Count towards the title of Mario Kart Master! Have you forgotten already?”

“I guess I did. Maybe because I’ve already earned it.”

Dan grins. Phil punches his arm.

“That didn’t count. This one does.” He furrows his brows in contemplation for a moment before adding, “Should we do best two of three?”

“Starting now, I’m assuming?” Dan does his best not to laugh.

“Yes! I told you, that was just a warm up.”

“Alright, two out of three then,” Dan agrees.  

Phil  tries harder this time. He’s leant forward with elbows digging into the pale flesh of his thighs, frowning at the tv screen in concentration. 

Dan is lounging, ankle thrown over the knee of the opposite leg, one arm draped over the armrest of the sofa. He’s being a smug asshole but he can’t help himself, the look of indignation on Phil’s face when he loses again is just delicious.

“Should we make it three of five?” Dan teases.

“Oh, bugger off.” Phil throws his controller at Dan and stands up.

“You giving up already? Maybe a miracle will happen and you’ll win the next one.”

Phil stands in front of Dan, looks down at him as he pushes Dan’s ankle off his knee so his foot drops to the ground. 

“Just taking a break.”

Dan’s pulse quickens a little as Phil drops to his knees and reaches forward to curl his fingers over the elastic of Dan’s pants. 

“You really think I can be distracted this easily?” 

Phil tugs and Dan contradicts his own words immediately by lifting his hips up off the sofa. Phil pulls the pants down and off completely, chucking them behind him without so much as a backwards glance. 

“I’m hoping so.”

Dan bumps his knee against Phil’s side. “Well, you might be right.”

Phil grins, placing gentle but firm hands on the inside of Dan’s thighs and pushing them open until there’s enough room for him to fit between them comfortably. 

He’s looking at Dan’s face now, right into his eyes as he runs his palms up from Dan’s thighs to push the bottom of the yellow shirt up a little.

“D'you want me to…?” Dan asks, moving to pull it off.

Phil shakes his head. “I wanna suck your dick while you wear my shirt.”

Dan had mostly still been soft up until… that. That husky voiced admission makes his stomach swoop and he can feel a rapid rushing sensation between his legs. 

“Do it,” he croaks, shifting his hips forward, his head sliding down a little against the back of the sofa. 

Phil gives a silent chuckle before leaning in and pressing his lips to Dan’s half hard cock. It’s a kiss — one Dan would call sweet if it were being placed anywhere else. It doesn’t elicit much actual sensation but still he can feel himself swelling beneath the gentlest pressure of Phil’s mouth.

Phil wraps a hand around the base and squeezes. Not hard — just enough to get Dan the rest of the way to erect. It hadn’t taken long and it hadn’t taken much, but it’s not that surprising, Dan supposes. There’s just… there’s just something about Phil. There’s no point in denying that. 

He holds Dan’s cock in his hand and studies it, watching as it grows to its full size and the head starts to push up out of the skin that usually surrounds it.

Dan thinks maybe he should feel self conscious. He’s not sure anyone’s ever stared at any part of his body like this before, let alone the most intimate of parts, but it doesn’t feel like he’s being judged. Actually it feels more like he’s being learned, and possibly even admired a little bit. Phil looks like he likes what he sees.

He pulls the skin a little tighter, just enough to expose the head and runs his tongue along the underside of it and then up and over the tip. It still feels so soft and cautious to Dan— as innocent and sweet as a tongue on his dick could possibly feel. 

It feels good but not enough to really get anything accomplished besides the slow simmering warmth of anticipation in his gut. Phil closes his mouth around the head for a moment, and looks up at Dan before pulling off. 

“How do you like it?” he asks, replacing his tongue with the the gentle pressure of the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t care,” Dan almost whispers. “Just want you. Your mouth. Doesn’t matter.” He reaches a hand down and slides his fingers into Phil’s fringe.

When Phil takes him in it’s warm and wet and still somehow so gentle and just so fucking good. Dan sighs and spreads his legs wider and pulls up on the bottom of the shirt so there’s nothing obscuring his view of Phil’s lips sliding up and down. Phil’s still got his fingers wrapped around the base but he doesn’t move them, just keeps his grip to hold Dan in place while his mouth does all the work. 

Dan wants to watch, but eventually he has to close his eyes and tip his head back. It’s the best kind of sex, this is, the kind that starts easy and builds up slow, unhurried and patient so he can enjoy Phil’s tongue and his mouth and his lips for a good long time. 

When Dan takes a second to look down again Phil’s eyes are closed. He looks like he’s enjoying this too. Dan hopes he is, and he hopes Phil knows how good he’s making Dan feel -- for the second time today. For the third -- or fourth? fifth? -- time since Dan stormed inside his flat with tears in his eyes and a crack in his heart. 

When the pit of his stomach starts to burn with the need for release, Dan shifts his hips forward again and that seems to be all Phil needs to understand. Everything speeds up then, his bobs becoming shallower and his fist tugging where his mouth doesn’t reach. He uses his other hand to cup Dan’s balls and-- how does he do that? How does he know just exactly what Dan needs to push him over the edge? 

Dan’s moaning and grunting and trying not to pull Phil’s hair but he’s close and he’s losing the will to control himself. He doesn’t want to lose the bliss and warmth and suction that Phil’s mouth is providing, but he’s definitely going to come now so he tugs ever so gently on Phil’s fringe and pants, “Gonna come,” expecting Phil to pull off and wank him through it.

He doesn’t do that. In fact what he does is pull his hand away entirely and sink his mouth down further. Dan can feel Phil’s throat around him and that’s just-- there’s just no way he can physically stop himself from rolling his hips up into that. Phil’s hands push down on Dan’s hips to keep him from doing that again, but it’s already enough.

He grunts out some combination of, “Fuck,” and, “Oh god,” and, “Phil,” as he comes and Phil is still there with his mouth and his tongue and his lips to work Dan through it.

Dan is completely and totally spent when Phil finally pulls off and drops one more gentle kiss to Dan’s softening cock. The words  _ thank you _ are on Dan’s lips as Phil stands up and sits next to him, but he stops himself because he knows that’s not really the right thing to say after someone gives you the best blowjob of your life, even if it is exactly what you’re thinking.

Instead he reaches over and slides a hand inside Phil’s pants, because what better way to say thank you than to return the favour? 

 

Phil’s managed to win a number of races by the time Dan’s yawning and looking at him and asking, “What time is it?” His thumb is starting to cramp from hours of gaming and the bare skin of his legs feels cold.

Phil is yawning too, has been for a while. “Late probably, I don’t know.”

It surprises Dan how much he doesn’t want to say what he says next. “I should probably go.”

Phil looks at him. “You don’t have to. You can stay.”

Dan bites his lip. He could. He could stay. But he’s not sure he trusts himself anymore and he doesn’t want to fuck up this thing they’ve got going on. This thing is perfect.

“I probably shouldn’t,” he says quietly.

“Oh,” Phil says. “Oh. Right. Ok.”

Dan stands up. “I had fun.”

Phil stands too, a little awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or what he’s supposed to say. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Mind if I borrow…” Dan gestures to the shirt he’s still wearing and the pants he’d pulled back on and after they’d both cleaned themselves up.

“Oh, yeah, course. No problem.”

Dan takes a calming breath. Phil looks utterly lost and Dan just can’t have that. “Hey.”

“Hmm?” Phil hums. 

“It doesn’t have to be weird.”

Phil nods. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just--” Dan takes a couple steps towards Phil, reaching out and pulling him into a casual one armed hug. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Soon?”

Phil nods. “Do you-- like do you have stuff tomorrow?”

“I think I have to work, yeah.”

“Oh right. Work.”

Dan smiles. Phil’s ineptitude in this moment is as endearing as anything he’s ever seen. “Next day?”

Phil nods.

“Alright. Have a good night, and-- well, anyway, thanks, Phil.” He makes sure Phil is looking at him before he says it again, because he really means it and he wants Phil to know that. “Thank you, Phil.”

Phil smiles, and nods. 

Dan’s just opened the door and about to step out into the hall when Phil calls out, “Hey Dan.”

Dan turns, looking at Phil expectantly. 

“Can I have your number?” He’s grinning, and some small anxious thing in Dan’s chest melts on the spot.

He smiles back. “I’ll think about it.” 


	9. Chapter 9

The first thing he does when he gets in is search for his phone. It’s been over twenty four hours since she called, and he’s sure there are things waiting there behind that screen that he needs to address. Ignoring them any longer will just make him feel worse, and he feels more mentally stable right now than he has in a long time. Might as well face the music now while he still has the will to dance to it.

He finds it eventually, wedged under the radiator. It’s cracked but not shattered. It’s still useable, and even still has a little bit of battery left. 

There’s more to address than he’d been expecting. Five calls from his mum and a text that reads  _ listen kid, i didn’t tear my fanny to shreds pushing you out just to have you ignore me. ring me back. also dad says happy birthday _

He’s got a text from his brother:  _ happy birthday loser. congrats on being old _ . Sure it’s rather rude but it’s way more than he was expecting. He and Adrian don’t talk much, never really have, so even a text like this makes Dan smile.

He keeps scrolling down— three missed calls from his nan and a bunch of facebook notifications, people he doesn’t know anymore wishing him generic happy things. 

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised to see she’d not called him back. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. 

She did text though, just once.  _ i’m sorry dan. i really didn’t mean to upset you. i thought you might be ready to talk. i still want to. please tell me when you’re ready. i hate that this is where things are left between us. i hope i didn’t ruin your birthday. i hope you’re taking care of yourself. i know i shouldn’t say this but i miss you. i still think about everything and how you wouldn’t even let me explain. there are things i still need to say, and i think they’re things you need to hear. i know it’ll be hard for me to move on if i don’t get to say them, not that you care about that.  _

He wants to throw his phone again. She’s right — he doesn’t care about that. Although it surprises him a little that she’d phrased it that way. Hadn’t she already moved on? Wasn’t that the whole point?

It doesn’t matter what her point was. She doesn’t get to ask him for anything now. He gets to make his own point, and that is that he doesn’t want to talk to or think about her anymore, ever. Even if she is dangling words like  _ I miss you _ in front of him. He can’t. He can’t go there. 

He stops himself from beginning to spiral — or beginning to hope — by returning his mum’s call. It’s the middle of the night but he doesn’t care. She’s a night owl like him, there’s a chance she could be awake. And if she isn’t at least she’ll see tomorrow that her ungrateful son had finally gotten round to ringing her back. 

 

It feels like it’s been ages since he’s been back here, sat on a stool behind the worn wood countertop of this dusty little shop. The shelves around him are overcrowded with the tattered covers of books no one wants to read anymore. 

He doesn’t quite understand how this place even stays open, but he’s not complaining. It’s probably the only type of job he could hold down right now, one where he rarely has to talk to anyone and mostly he can just sit and look out the window and watch the people walking by. 

He doesn’t make enough money for this to be a sustainable option as a lifelong career, but he’s got enough stored away from his first life that he won’t have to worry about that for a while, especially if he continues to spend his paychecks exclusively on rent, bills and cheap groceries. 

He shouldn’t let himself climb aboard this train of thought. It never ends well. It always leaves him feeling like shit, no matter which direction he takes. 

He’d suffered through the years of crushing boredom and endless existential crises of university and actually managed to translate his degree into a respectable job that made his parents proud. It didn’t really make him feel the way he thought it would. It didn’t make him feel fulfilled, it didn’t drown out the nagging feeling like he was wasting valuable time, letting the best years of his life pass him by, but it kept him busy and paid the bills and sounded good when people asked him ‘what he did.’

What he did, as if the insight into his whole identity could be contained within the tasks he performed in an office building from 9 to 5, Monday to Friday. 

Then he met her. Things were different after that. She was incredible— smart and funny and creative and kind and he fell harder than he would have thought humanly possible. He lost himself in her and that was enough. He could go to work and be bored all day because he knew he’d be coming home to something that made him feel alive. To someone inspiring, artistic, bold— someone who lit a fire inside him and made him forget that he would never be any of those things.

He misses that. He misses being able to forget. 

His throat feels tight. His phone sits heavy in his pocket, suddenly feeling like it’s pressing down insistently against his thigh. He still hasn’t responded to her message— but he could. Part of him wants to, desperately. He could text her, tell her he wants to talk. Maybe she’d even come down from Manchester. 

Does he even want that?

Probably not. He can pretend to be strong when the only image he has of her is the one in his own head, and even then he’s rarely successful. Even just hearing her voice had caused a day-long break from reality. Seeing her in person might actually destroy him.

No. At least for now, he’s going to have to ignore it. He reminds himself that he doesn’t owe her a goddamn thing. He’d given her everything and she’d thrown it all away and it’s not his job to make her feel better about that.  

Then the little bell on the door dings and an actual human being enters the shop — two in fact — giving him an excuse to get up off his ass and out of his head. He’s never been so glad for having customers. 

 

It’s not late enough when he gets off for him not to think about knocking on Phil’s door. The sun hasn’t even set yet and he still feels off, like his insides are frayed at the edges and he could unravel with the slightest tug. 

He steps off the lift and stares down the hall. He can see his door and he can see Phil’s and he knows which one he’d rather open. He wouldn’t mind some company, and Phil is very good company. 

He turns the handle to his own, because they’d made plans to hang out tomorrow and he’s already shown himself to be mess enough. Surely at some point he’ll cross the line from likeable weirdo to full-on neurotic and Phil will realize the mistake he’s made.

Phil has a life. Phil has girls literally chasing after him. Sure the ones Dan has seen have been too young, but that doesn’t mean they all are. And it doesn’t mean they’re all girls. He’s probably got people of all ages and walks of life pining after him. He really doesn’t need his sad clingy neighbour knocking on his door every night. For all Dan knows he’s got someone in there with him right now. He’d said he doesn’t have friends, but he hadn’t said anything about hookups.

For some reason that makes Dan’s stomach do a weird little twinge. Time for a distraction, then.

He looks in the fridge. Nothing good, but at least he still has milk to pour into his cereal. He eats it over the sink and leaves the dishes when he’s done. He’s not bored enough to do the washing up. 

When he turns around he sees the flash of colour on the kitchen table and is reminded that he still hasn’t opened the gift from his mum. She hadn’t answered his call last night and he hasn’t had a chance to ring back yet. He’ll open it now and ring her after. 

He picks it up and tears the wrapping off unceremoniously. He opens the little cardboard box inside, expecting to see a few twenties or maybe a gift card.

It’s not either of those things. He chokes out a little laugh, some unnamed emotion causing the sound to break at the end.

He pulls out his phone. It rings three times before she answers. 

“What d’you want? I’ve already disowned you, ungrateful child.”

“I rang last night!”

“I was sleeping Daniel. It was the middle of the night.”

“Sorry.”

“You’d better have been out having a load of fun to ignore your poor mother for that long.”

“Uh… kind of I guess, yeah. Not really  _ out _ but… yeah. I had some fun.”

“I imagine that means you were with… that lad there, the one I met when you lot were—”

“Mum,” Dan interrupts indignantly. 

“Am I wrong?”

“His name is Phil and yes you are.”

There is silence on the other end of the line. 

“Ok, jesus, fine. Yes, you’re right I was with Phil. And actually we did go out. He bought me a few drinks and then we played video games at his. Are you happy?”

“I’m sure that’s half the truth but it’s fine. I’m glad you had fun, love. But you could have rung yesterday, you know.”

Dan frowns. “I told you, I was with Phil.”

“I thought you meant on your birthday.”

Dan’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’d almost forgotten he’d spent nearly the whole of his birthday curled up alone in his bed.

“I… wasn’t feeling well.”

“You were poorly on your birthday?” 

She sounds so genuinely motherly and concerned that he almost feels bad for the rather large omission of truth. He considers telling her, but he doesn’t know how she’d react. Would she commiserate? Or, possibly more likely, would she tell him he needs to grow up and move on? He doesn’t want to risk it.

“Yeah, basically.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re feeling better now?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, mostly. Thanks.”

“Well, that’s good then.”

There’s another silence and this time it’s the awkward type, the kind where each is waiting for the other to say something. 

“So…” she nudges.

“Oh, yeah. I just wanted to say thanks. For the gift.”

“Oh, right.”

“Thanks mum. It’s too much, like way too much, but thank you. It’s nice.”

“You only turn twenty six once, Dan. I want you to have some fun. I want you to be happy. I w—” 

She cuts herself off, but Dan knows damn well she was going to say she worries. 

“Anyway, just thought you might have a good time with those.”

“I will, mum, thank you. Who’s— who’s the second one for?”

“That’s up to you. Maybe you could bring Phil?”

Dan chuckles. Honestly, there couldn’t be anyone else. Maybe that should be sad, but it makes him smile. Hopefully it’ll make Phil smile too.

 

London looks pretty at night, especially from this high up and especially when it’s raining. He knows he’s supposed to grumble and groan about it like everyone else, but he likes it. There’s something calming about the sound it makes, about the way it slides down the glass of the window. 

It’s peaceful, which is something he appreciates. He leans his head against that drop speckled window and watches the lights of the cars and buses below him, the little dots of the people on the pavement shielded by umbrellas. There are always so many people down there, even after the sun has gone down. 

He’s spent too much time looking out windows today. He likes it, but it’s also dangerous. It allows his mind to wander, and lately that’s never good. He really just… he just wishes there was someone else here to watch the rain with him. 

He wishes he’d said yes last night when Phil had asked for his number. He can’t knock on Phil’s door but surely texting would be ok?

God, he’s a fucking loser. He doesn’t even have friends he can  _ text _ let alone hang out with.

 

He’s stood in front of Phil’s door twenty minutes later, a little scrap of paper clutched in his hand, onto which he’s scribbled out his number. He hasn’t written his name on it.

He slides it under the door before he can change his mind. He doesn’t knock, just slips it under Phil’s door and spins on his heel and returns to his own flat. 

His sad empty flat.

He throws his phone on the bed and pulls off his shirt. He fills up a bowl of water and pours it into the dry soil of his plant pot before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

It’s too early to sleep, but he has nothing else to do, so he slips into bed and under the covers once his mouth is minty fresh. He puts his phone on the pillow next to him and tries not to think about the fact that he’s literally laid there waiting for it to do something. 

His laptop is still in the bed too, but he can’t look at it. He can’t open it up because he knows what’s waiting for him once he does— Phil. Or rather, some guy who looks like Phil and somehow has fans and links to Twitter and YouTube and page after page of photos. Amazing Phil. 

He knows those two Phils are the same, but it feels too surreal to think about. The Phil he knows is… well, he’s kind of a dork. A sexy dork to be sure, but still. 

Dan almost jumps out of his skin when there’s a loud buzz right next to his head. His heart pounds against his ribs for a few beats before he takes a deep breath and reaches for his phone. 

It’s not Phil, Dan tells himself. It’s not. It’s probably his mum or something.

His swipes his thumb across the screen. It’s not his mum.

_ are you stalking me mate? _

Dan grins. Wide.  _ who’s this _

_ have you forgotten me already? _

_ yes _ , Dan types.  _ that’s why i gave you my number i wasn’t thinking about you at all _

He’s sent it before he has time to realize how it sounds. He braces himself as Phil’s next message comes in.

_ i was thinking about you too. i’m glad you decided i was worthy  _

Dan steadfastly ignores the swirly feeling inside his chest. Get your shit together, Howell.

_ dont feel obligated to speak to me or anything like if you’re busy or whatever. _ He has to do it. He has to protect himself preemptively from the possibility of rejection. 

_ i’m not busy at all. i had a work thing to do earlier but i’ve been done for a bit and kind of _

His message ends there. Dan waits, thinking there must be more. He expects to see those three grey dots pop up, but they don’t.

_ kind of what don’t me leave me hanging _

_ it’s not important _ , Phil replies.  _ i’m just glad you gave me your number. i’m glad we’re talking _

_ me too _ , Dan texts. He knows it’s only words on a screen, he can’t hear Phil’s tone or see his face but Dan can’t help but think Phil is upset. He wants to ask but he doesn’t know how so instead he says  _ i have a bit of a weird question for you _

_ hit me _ . Phil’s response is immediate. 

_ do you like muse _

Dan watches the dots that mean Phil is typing. Why is he nervous about this?

_ i used to a lot like seven years ago. i was kind of obsessed at one point actually that’s funny you should ask _

_ but not anymore? _ Dan asks

_ i feel like i need to know why you’re asking before i answer that. i don’t wanna give you the wrong answer. _

Dan smiles down at his phone. What does that even mean?  _ it’s just your opinion phil your opinion isn’t wrong or right it’s just what you think _

_ are we playing twenty questions? is this just a random question or do you have a motive? _

_ i have a motive you nutter _ , Dan replies. 

_ tell me what it is _

_ ok i will but don’t laugh and also don’t feel like you have to say yes or anything ok? _

Again, Phil’s response is nearly instantaneous.  _ i’m so intrigued _

_ my mum got me two tickets to see them in a few weeks as a birthday present _

_ so YOU like them  _ Phil says

_ i used to a lot same as you. i haven’t really listened to them at all in years but she must have remembered from my emo phase how bloody much i listened to origin of symmetry _

Just then Dan’s phone buzzes, but it’s not a text, it’s the longer more drawn out vibrations of an actual call. He answers confusedly.

“Sorry.” Phil’s voice is deep and gravelly over the phone. It’s such a good voice, Dan thinks. “Just… thought it’d be easier to do it like this. Wanted to hear your words instead of having to read them. That alright?”

Dan feels vindicated— Phil definitely sounds a little upset. “Yeah, course. My thumbs could use a little rest.”

“So tell me more about Muse,” Phil says. “And your emo phase.”

Dan snickers. “Trust me, you don’t wanna hear about that.”

“I do, actually. I want to hear how it compares to mine.”

“Well I guess we both listened to muse… and we had the same haircut. Although I reckon you still kind of have it, mostly.”

Phil laughs but it’s not a happy sound. “I’m a slave to my branding.” 

Dan frowns. “You know I have no idea what the means, right?”

“Sorry. Carry on.”

“I don’t know what there is to say, really. I wanted an excuse to have long hair and wear eyeliner and talk about my feelings, I guess. Some excuse that didn’t involve me admitting how gay I was.”

Phil’s voice is soft and tinged with an undeniable melancholy when he answers. “Sounds like we had pretty similar experiences. You seem to have left yours behind a hell of a lot more than I have though.”

“Hey,” Dan murmurs. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, go on. You have tickets to Muse even though you don’t really care anymore.”

“Yeah. I was— I was wondering if you’d want to— like I have the second ticket and I don’t know anyone here in London really.”

“You wanna take me?” Phil sounds genuinely surprised.  

“Yeah,” Dan says, fighting through his instinct to deny, to protect himself from the possibility of Phil saying no. “If you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

Dan wants to smile, but Phil’s voice just sounds so off that he can’t. “Ok, great.”

And then there is silence. It’s not an altogether uncommon occurrence between them, but this one feels different. Dan just  _ knows _ there’s something wrong, and he finds it physically impossible to ignore. Phil and sadness, they just don’t belong together. They refuse to take up the same space in Dan’s mind.

“Hey Phil?”

“Hm?” He sounds far away and muffled.

“You can tell me to fuck off if I’m crossing a line here and I’ll shut up about it but… are you sure you’re alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Dan hears him take in a breath… and then breathe it out again without saying a word. 

And then, finally, quietly, “It’s fine. I know that’s not what this is.”

Dan feels a little chill run down his arms. Phil sounds so… well, he sounds cold. “What d’you mean?”

“You don’t want to talk.”

“Why would you--”

Phil cuts him off. “S’not important. Maybe I-- maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t what?” Dan asks, bewildered now, truly.

“Go to the concert with you. Maybe this was all… wrong.”

Now the blood in Dan’s veins turns to ice. “Phil, what the fuck? Did I do someth--”

“It’s not you. It’s me. I-- I think I fucked up. But you don’t want anything real and you don’t want to talk, so--”

“Phil, what happened?”

Another heavy exhalation on the other end of the line. Phil doesn’t say anything.

“Have you… have you changed your mind about me?” Dan asks softly. It’s honestly fair enough if he has, it’s not like Dan would blame him. 

“No,” Phil chokes.

Relief floods Dan’s body-- too much relief. It should scare him but he’s too preoccupied at the moment. “Ok. Ok, good. I’m glad. So… let’s talk.”

“You don’t want to.”

“I do,” Dan argues.

“You don’t have to lie, Dan,” Phil whispers. “I don’t want you to lie.”

“I’m not lying. I was being a twat the other day.”

“Yesterday,” Phil reminds him. “It was only yesterday.”

“Right. I was just, you know…”

Phil sighs quietly, or maybe he’s just trying to focus on breathing in and out. “Scared.” 

“Yeah. Scared. But I was an ass and I thought we-- I thought you forgave me for that.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Well I thought you understood,” Dan says, sitting up, crossing his legs underneath him. For some reason lying down feels too passive for this conversation. He needs to feel some kind of control before he lets this whole thing slip away from him. “We can talk. Of course we can talk. We’re friends, that’s what friends do. And…” He stops to take a deep breath of his own, in and out and then another before he says, “And you were there for me when I-- when I needed you.”

“This is different,” Phil croaks. 

“Ok.” Dan tries to sound steady, encouraging. “That’s fine, though.” He has no idea what Phil’s talking about, but he knows it’s ok. It could be pretty much anything and it’d be ok and he just wants to help Phil through it. “Just talk to me. Or you could-- do you want to come over?”

“I… I can’t, Dan.”

Dan opens his mouth to argue, but Phil’s already hung up.

His heart is pounding, his stomach twisting. He can’t leave it like that, can he? He can’t leave Phil alone knowing he’s  _ that _ upset.

But what can he really do? He’d offered his support and Phil has clearly decided to keep him at arms length. For Dan to continue to push would be to ignore Phil’s autonomy, to say without words that he knows better.

And that’s selfish, right? That would be making it about himself and not Phil, and that’s not something a good friend would do.

Right?

Dan swings his legs off the edge of the mattress and plants his feet on the floor. He tilts his head up to look at the muted green of his plant’s leaves in the darkness. He stares at it and tries not to think about Phil in the flat next to him, alone and suffering in some unmeasured way.

He fails. He can’t let Phil continue to operate under the assumption that his feelings don’t matter to Dan. And maybe it’s selfish, but Dan can’t help feeling it’s still the right thing to do. He grabs his shirt off the floor and stands up, pulling it over his head. He just has to check. He has to make sure Phil knows he doesn’t have to be alone.

He stops at the door, his hand on the handle. The words  _ I can’t, Dan _ replaying in his head. 

He ignores them. For better or worse, he’s doing this, so he might as well get it over with. He turns the handle and opens the door and stops dead in his tracks. 

Phil’s already there.


	10. Chapter 10

He looks shocked, like a child who’s just been caught sneaking a biscuit before dinner or something. His shirt is rumpled and his hair is a mess and his eyes look tired.

“Dan,” he says, like he would have expected literally anyone else to walk through that door.

“Phil.”

“What are you doing?” Phil asks, taking a little half step backwards.

“Um.” Should he lie? He doesn’t even know what Phil’s thinking right now. Would he be touched that Dan was coming to check up on him? Or would he find it condescending? Would it finally make him realize he’s in too deep with someone he doesn’t know, with someone who doesn’t have the common decency not to inflict themselves upon anyone who shows the least bit of interest?

Maybe lying would make him look better, but the confusion on Phil’s face makes Dan realize that he can’t lie. Phil looks like he needs a friend and friends don’t lie to each other. Phil had even _said_ he didn’t want Dan to lie, so he’s going to choose to honour that now.

“I was going to come over to yours actually,” he says quietly.

“You were? Really?”

“I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“But…” he looks at Dan and frowns a little. “I was such a dick.”

Dan wants to reach out and crush Phil’s body to his, but he definitely isn’t going to touch him before he knows that’s what Phil wants. He has to remind himself this isn’t about him.

He has to do _something_ though. “Do you want to come in?”

Phil stays rooted to the spot, looking conflicted.

“We can just talk. If you want.”

Fear dances across Phil’s face then and it’s undeniable. He’s still not saying anything, so Dan takes a risk and reaches his hand out for Phil’s, pulling him into the flat and closing the door behind them. He lets go of Phil’s hand because he doesn’t want to push it.

“What’s going on, Phil? Why don’t you want to talk to me?”

“I have to… tell you something,” he says quietly, reluctantly.

“Ok… I’m listening.”

“I don’t want to, though.”

Dan has the inappropriate urge to laugh. It’s just so ridiculous the way Phil keeps swinging back and forth. It doesn’t seem to make any kind of sense.

“Well you don’t have to,” Dan says gently.

Phil looks off to the side and shakes his head. “I do though.”

“Why? I mean, it’s going to be fine I’m sure, but if you really don’t want to—”

“It’s about you.”

“Oh.” Dan tries not to let his face betray his apprehension. “Ok.”

“Can we sit?” Phil asks. It feels like a diversion, but Dan nods, before remembering there isn’t actually anywhere to do that.

“Uhh…”

Phil looks around and chuckles, so that’s something at least. “Oh right.”

“Do you— we could go out somewhere, if you want?” Dan asks. He’s never been so ashamed of his inability to function even remotely as an adult.

“S’ok,” Phil says, already walking towards Dan’s bed. “We can just sit here.”

“Sorry.” Dan follows him. “I swear to god I’m gonna go out and buy some fucking furniture like, tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind getting into bed with you,” Phil says, propping up one of the pillows and leaning his back against the wall.

Dan frowns, still stood up at the edge of the mattress and looking down at Phil. So far it’s only been him that seemed to be playing games, unable to make up his mind about what he wants. Now Phil’s doing it too and Dan realizes it actually kind of feels like shit. He vows that if Phil hasn’t decided he’s done with all this by the end of the conversation, he’ll have to try a lot harder not to jerk Phil around anymore.

Phil looks up. “You coming?”

Dan props up the other pillow and mimics Phil’s posture, stretching his legs out so they run parallel with Phil’s. They’re both wearing sweatpants. Phil’s socks are mismatched and colourful and the feet inside of them seem to go on forever.

Dan keeps his eyes on those socked feet, afraid to turn his head and look at Phil’s face, afraid of the expression he may find there. He’s waiting for Phil to say something, hoping he’s not going to make Dan ask.

But it seems that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Were you going to knock?” Dan asks quietly.

“Maybe,” Phil murmurs. “I hadn’t decided yet. Still debating when you opened the door.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Maybe. Probably not. I don’t know, honestly.”

Finally Dan has no choice but to force some eye contact. He can’t take this anymore. “Well will you tell me already before I literally go insane, mate?”

Phil chuckles. “I… I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Are you trying to like… break up with me?” Dan asks.

“We’re not together.” Phil’s face is absolutely deapan.

“Does that-- is that what this is about?”

“No, not at all.”

“So you’re-- you’re still good with…” he gestures his hand between the two of them. “This?”

“Yeah, of course. I just don’t know if _you_ will be. And that… that’s why I’m not keen to talk about this.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out, Phil. Just tell me, ok? I’m not-- like, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t know that,” Phil says, looking down at his hands.

“Well just tell me and then you’ll see.” It’s true Dan is a little freaked out now, but mostly he feels a kind of warmth knowing Phil is _this_ worried about losing whatever this thing is between them.

Phil sighs heavily. “Remember that thing you called me?”

Dan has to think for a minute before he remembers. “Amazing Phil?”

Phil nods. “And the thing that happened with that girl at the zoo… and yesterday.”

“Yeah…”

“You said you didn’t look it up. Was that true?”

Dan’s entire body feels like a single clenched muscle. “I started to the other night but then… I stopped.”

“You can tell me if you actually did. It’s not like I told you not to. I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I didn’t,” Dan insists. “But… I guess I don’t really need to, right?”

Phil frowns. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean… you had me film you, you said ‘hey guys’ to the camera, you have random people on the street recognizing you and asking for photos…”

“Yeah.

“So is that, like your… channel? Amazing Phil?”

Phil nods.

“Is that it?” Dan asks, risking a little nudge of his elbow into Phil’s arm. “You didn’t want to tell me you’re YouTube famous?”

Phil doesn’t smile. “I didn’t, but that’s not it.”

Dan’s smile drops instantly. “Oh. Sorry.”

Phil pulls his legs up to his chest, resting his forehead on his knees. “I should have though. I should have told you right away. I just…” He lifts his head again and looks at Dan. “I like this. I like not having to… I like just being Phil.”

“It’s ok. You can still be Phil. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, remember?”

Phil shakes his head. “It’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because now…” Phil sighs again, and pulls out his phone. He opens it up and hands it to Dan a minute later.

It’s open to Twitter, and the first thing Dan sees makes his stomach drop. It’s a picture of him and Phil from behind, Phil’s arm thrown across Dan’s shoulders. Dan’s head is turned and looking at Phil, a huge smile dimpling his cheek. It’s a blurry photo, taken from a distance and looking _exactly_ like what it is-- an invasion. Like a private moment captured by someone who was never meant to witness it.

“Fuck,” Dan mutters.

“Yeah,” Phil agrees sadly. “Keep scrolling.”

He’s not sure he should, but the curiosity is too much. He scrolls down and there are more photos. The two of them turned towards the photo takers, Dan looking confused and Phil looking terrified, which is just as Dan remembers it. There are altogether too many photos of them with their hands clasped together tightly as they run away. They’re even more blurry than the first, and it’s clear the girls had actually chased them, at least for a little while.

Dan feels a little sick, but he hopes Phil knows it has nothing to do with what they’re _doing_ in those photos, nothing to do with the way they’re touching each other. It has nothing to do with Phil and everything to do with the thought that Phil had been worried about Dan’s reaction.

“Are you reading the comments?” Phil croaks.

“Should I?”

“You deserve to know what people are saying about you.” He’s still staring down at his hands.

“Phil, they don’t _know_ me. They don’t even know who I am. Why would I give a fuck what they’re saying?”

Phil’s head snaps up. “You’re not curious?”

“I’m assuming they’re saying I’m your boyfriend? Is that the gist?”

Phil bites his lip and nods.

“No offense, mate, but like… who fucking cares?”

“You really don’t?”

“I don’t think so, not really. Like, how famous are you?”

“I don’t know how to answer that without sounding like a div,” Phil says. “But you have my Twitter in your hands. You can look at the follower count.”

Dan looks. “Fuck me. _Fuck._ ”

“Like I said. I should have told you.”

“I was not expecting that. Shit. You actually are famous, Phil. What the fuck. How have I not heard of you before?”

Phil laughs then, a full on snort of surprised amusement. “You’re not really my demographic.”

“Sorry,” Dan mumbles. “Sorry, that was-- god I’m a cunt. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s… I mean, I could tell right away, the first day we met. When you came to my door?”

Dan nods.

“I could tell you didn’t know who I was and… yeah. Usually people around like, your age or whatever. A lot of the time they at least vaguely recognize me. And I could tell you didn’t. And… that was nice. I liked it.”

“Is that why you invited me in?”

Phil shrugs. “Maybe. I can’t really explain why, I just felt… drawn to you.” His voice gets quieter and less sure with every word. “It was weird.”

Dan nods. “I felt it too,” he murmurs.

“I liked not having to think about all this crap.” He gestures to his phone. “For someone to see me as me and not like, the internet version of me.”

Dan holds the phone out for Phil to take.

“Are you not gonna read…?”

Dan shakes his head. “I don’t care.”

“You’re gonna look it all up later, aren’t you?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

“That’s not-- I can’t tell you not to.”

“I don’t want to do anything that would make this weird for you, Phil.”

Phil tilts his head to the side as he studies Dan’s face. “You really don’t care?”

Dan stares back. “Do you? Does it bother you that people think I’m your boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Well what are you saying?”

“Just… all of it. Every time we hang out in public there could potentially be someone taking photos of us. I’m not like-- like I’m not a celebrity but it does happen sometimes.”

“I don’t give a shit about that.”

“So you’re out?” Phil asks.

Dan shrugs. “I guess? It’s not like anyone really gives a shit who I sleep with, and I was living w--” He cuts himself off abruptly. _I was living with a woman._ Phil doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t want to tell Phil about her. Suddenly he completely understands Phil’s desire to just exist without all the baggage and the bullshit. “Anyway, my family knows. They’ve always known. I never had to come out it was just like, a known fact about me. Sometimes I was with boys, sometimes girls. It was never a big deal.”

Phil just nods slowly.

“Are you not out?” Dan asks.

“Not on the channel.”

Dan nods. “Was that a conscious decision?”

Phil looks away then. “Would you be offended if I said I don’t want to talk about the channel? I will if you want me to--”

“We don’t have to. I already told you we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s just that… it changes things. It always does. It changes the way people see me, and the way they act around me. And I don’t want that to happen with you. If you’re still, you know… down. I understand if you’re not.”

“Phil?”

“What?”

“I’m down. Definitely still down.”

Phil smiles, the first real one Dan’s seen today. It’s warm and wide and infectious and Dan can feel it spreading to his own cheeks.

“Good,” Phil says softly, like he’s saying it just for himself. “Good. And you’re not cross?”

“Not cross.”

“People are already asking me about it. In my liveshow tonight it’s like all anyone was talking about.”

“Wait wait wait… liveshow? Are you like— do you do…?”

Phil just looks at him questioningly, completely oblivious.

“Phil.” Dan’s genuinely panicking now. Not that it would matter, he tries to remind himself, but still. He hadn’t even considered it a possibility. “Are you a cam boy?”

Phil looks well and truly affronted. “No! Jesus christ, my channel is like, g rated! I don’t even curse in my videos!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just, you said liveshow and my mind went straight to…”

“You’re a bloody perv, you are,” Phil says, shoving Dan in the shoulder.

“I mean,” Dan gives him a cheeky look. “Don’t act like you’re not.”

“I hate you,” Phil mumbles. He pulls the duvet to the side and slips his legs under, then shimmies down and lays his head on the pillow. He pulls the covers up right under his chin, as if to hide from the humiliation Dan’s subjected him to.

Dan follows suit so they’re lying beside each other. He rolls onto his side to face Phil and Phil does the same. They’re not touching at all, but they are looking at each other. It’s quite dark in the flat because Dan hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, but the windows are uncovered as they always are and the light from the streetlamps below is filtered by falling raindrops and colours everything with a soft, dim yellow. Dan can still make out the shape of Phil’s face. He can still see that Phil is smiling.

“So what did you tell them?” Dan asks. “All these people asking about me in your liveshow.”

“Nothing. I completely ignored it, which probably just makes me look even more guilty.”

“Guilty?” He wishes that didn’t sting, but it does a little. “Are you ashamed?”

“Not guilty,” Phil whispers. “Sorry. Not ashamed. Just scared.”

“You can just tell them the truth, Phil.”

“And what’s that?”

“That we’re friends.”

Phil shifts his body, moving in just a little bit closer to Dan’s. “That’s not the whole truth though… is it?” His voice is soft and hushed and he says it like a genuine question, like he’s double checking what they really are now.

“No. But that part’s not their business. It isn’t anyone’s business but ours if you don’t want it to be.”

“I don’t,” Phil whispers. “But it’s not because I’m ashamed.”

Dan nods.

“It’s because I like you, and I like the way you look at me, and I don’t want anything stupid getting in the way of that.”

Dan’s insides are doing all kinds of squirmy things, lighting him up and making him feel warm all over. It’s too strong to deny, but he’s still trying. He wants to reciprocate-- the words are on his lips and he aches to say them, but some tiny reserve of nagging fear is holding him back. So instead he says, “Are you staying over tonight?”

“Can I?”

Dan answers by reaching forward and carefully taking off Phil’s glasses. He twists around to place them on the floor and when he turns back Phil has moved in a little closer.

“Do you feel like there’s anything you want to ask me?” he asks.

There is. Dan can think of about a thousand things he’d like to ask. “I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

Phil smiles in a way that clearly says _thank you._ Dan thinks it’s worth curbing his curiosity if it makes Phil look like that.

“Are you tired?” Phil asks.

Dan shakes his head. “You?”

“No.”

“Should we like… go do something?”

Phil shakes his head. “I’m pretty happy right here. Plus you took off my glasses so now I’m blind. I have no choice but to stay here in your bed.”

“That’s a shame,” Dan murmurs, leaning in and closing the last bit of distance left between them.

Phil’s arm wraps around Dan’s lower back and pulls him in tighter. “Am I still allowed to touch you?” he whispers.

“You better.”

“What about…” He leans in slowly, breathing deep and warm against Dan’s neck before pressing his lips just below Dan’s ear. “What about that? Can I do that?”

Dan doesn’t say anything, he just grabs the back of Phil’s head and pushes his face into his neck again. Phil giggles against Dan’s skin and even that is enough to make a particular kind of warmth spread through him.

Phil parts his lips a little further and brushes them along Dan’s neck as he breathes. It’s just a light touch, soft and feathery, breathy and warm but it feels so fucking good Dan’s already starting to get hard. He arches to give Phil more of his skin, his own hand wandering up the back of Phil’s shirt.

It hardly feels possible, but Phil already seems to know exactly what he’s doing. He already knows how to do this in just the right way to make Dan crazy. He kisses down from Dan’s jaw slowly and grazes the skin with his teeth on the way back up. He licks into Dan’s ear and bites the lobe and Dan is reminded of the first time they did this-- how hot and electric and slightly wrong it felt to have Phil’s mouth on him before they knew anything about each other.

They know a little more about each other now and it feels a lot less wrong but no less hot and no less electric. Phil’s stubble rubs against Dan’s neck and it’s just the perfect amount of friction.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Phil whispers, right into Dan’s ear.

“So take them off. And take yours off too.”

Phil doesn’t waste any time. He sits up and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He tosses it onto the floor and looks at Dan, who’s already working to get his own shirt off, too impatient to wait for Phil to do it for him.

Neither of them are naked like Dan had originally wanted, but the moment Dan’s shirt is off his body and lying in a heap on the floor he’s reaching for Phil. Reaching with grabby hands like every millisecond he has to wait for their bodies to connect is too long. He pulls him back down so they’re lying side by side again, bare chests pressed together, Dan’s fingers sliding up into Phil’s hair.

“You’re not naked,” Phil whispers. His lips are already brushing Dan’s and all Dan wants is to kiss him.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows what he should do is pull his pants off and Phil’s too. He should keep his lips far away from Phil’s and distract himself from all these warm and fluttery feelings by focusing on Phil’s body and nothing else. He should slip under the duvet where it’s dark and put his mouth on Phil’s chest and his hands on his cock and lose himself in how good it feels not to come alone.

It’s what he should do if he wants to continue to deny to himself that this means anything more than that, that it means anything more than sex and platonic companionship.

But then he hears Phil’s words in his head again -- _I like you_ \-- and all he wants to do is say them back and it aches not to say them back because he’s starting to believe they’re really true and maybe it’s already too late. Maybe it doesn’t matter whether he says them or not, just the knowledge that he wants to is enough for him to know he’s fucked.

He can’t say them. He can’t. He’s not ready for that. But he also can’t just pull Phil’s clothes off and press their bodies together like it means nothing.

“I just… wanted you,” Dan whispers back. He thinks that’s safe. It means something different to him than Phil probably understands.

Phil smiles and wraps his arm around Dan’s waist in a way that’s already starting to feel familiar. “You’ve got me.”

Dan kisses him. He fits his mouth to Phil’s and it feels right. They slot together like they were meant for each other and it’s overwhelming in its simplicity, its ease. Dan knows then he won’t he able to fight this forever-- not even close.

Maybe he should stop trying.


	11. Chapter 11

Dan’s face is pressed into Phil’s neck the next morning. Phil’s arm is nestled under Dan’s head while Dan’s is crushed a little, numbed under the weight of his own body. Their free arms are wrapped around each other, each holding the other tight. Their legs are all tangled up and their chests rise and fall together as they breathe, as if no time had actually passed between falling asleep and waking up.

Just like the last time he’d woken up next to Phil, Dan doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to pull away or risk waking Phil up, but it does feel different. Phil’s hands are on his body, but they aren’t teasing, they aren’t slipped beneath Dan’s clothes, they’re pressed gently against the bare skin of Dan’s back.

He decides maybe it’s ok to risk waking Phil up, because hopefully this time Phil waking up doesn’t mean Phil pulling away. Everything feels different now-- less tenuous and more settled. Dan tightens his grip on Phil’s torso and nuzzles his face further into the soft warm space between his head and his shoulder.

A breathy, rumbling sort of laugh escapes Phil’s lips and he pushes his thigh up higher where it’s wedged in between Dan’s. “Morning, you.”

Dan doesn’t have the capacity for words just yet so he just hums against Phil’s neck. The fog of sleep is beginning to clear from his brain, leaving space for him to remember all they’d said and done last night, the things Phil had shared and the feelings Dan had allowed to deepen-- and the kissing.

So much kissing, even more than the last time, though this time it hadn’t been followed by wandering hands or lustful movements. Just kissing, lips on lips and tongue against tongue, hands in hair and legs intertwined. Dan’s not sure how long it had gone on, but it had felt a long time and somehow still not enough.

And he hadn’t panicked when the kissing came to an end. When their lips were raw and their eyes heavy they’d pulled apart just enough to settle against the pillows and talk. They’d murmured quiet words and stories in the dark until Phil drifted off to sleep. Dan had smiled, tucked himself up under Phil’s chin and closed his eyes. He doesn’t remember how long he’d listened to the rain falling outside his window and Phil’s quiet snores before he fell asleep. All he knows is that he feels more well rested this morning than he has in ages.

“You drool in your sleep, mate,” Phil says.

“Do not.” He snaps his mouth closed, hoping Phil’s just teasing.

“Then why is my neck moist?”

“Ugh, don’t say moist.”

“Moist.” He takes his time with it, drawing out each letter.

Dan retaliates by opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into Phil’s neck, which unfortunately, definitely _is_ moist.

The biting does not elicit the reaction Dan had been aiming for. Phil actually arches a little and Dan can feel the reverberations of a deep moan against his lips.

“You’re supposed to be annoyed, not turned on,” Dan croaks. Hearing Phil make a noise like that is too sexy to resist when he’s still half asleep and they’re half naked and pushed up against each other.

“I reckon that’s your fault, not mine.”

Instead of pulling his mouth off of Phil’s skin and allowing the moment to pass, he doubles down on it, latching on and sucking in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. Phil moans again and suddenly he’s moving, gripping Dan’s arms and rolling over, pulling Dan on top of his chest.  

Dan pulls his head back in pleased surprise to actually look into Phil’s eyes for the first time since waking up. “Hello,” he says, looking down at the glory that is Phil’s sleepy smiling face.

“Hi,” Phil replies softly, his fingers running up and down Dan’s back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Phil nods. “Slobbery neck and all.”

“Shut up or I’ll slobber on you some more.”

Phil cocks an eyebrow. “Where, exactly?”

Dan knows Phil probably isn’t referring to his neck, but he just… he just really wants to kiss Phil’s neck. He doesn’t want to slide down Phil’s body and put his mouth on any part of him beside his neck and his face and his lips. He doesn’t want dirty right now, he wants soft.

Or maybe soft and dirty. Soft and dirty sounds good, he thinks, as he leans down and kisses Phil’s neck and Phil arches and sighs and slips his hands past the elastic band of Dan’s pants to cup his ass.

Soft and dirty indeed. Phil’s fingers squeeze Dan’s pliant flesh, kneading his ass gently but surely. He opens his legs so Dan can fit his hips between them and Phil can push Dan in closer. They’re both still wearing sweatpants but Dan can feel Phil growing steadily stiffer.

Dan stops kissing and starts sucking and Phil squeezes Dan’s ass harder and actually spreads the cheeks a little.

Dan gasps. He can’t help it-- it’s been so long since anyone touched him like that. He’d forgotten how much he likes it.

“Sorry,” Phil says, yanking his hands up and away. “Sorry.”

“God,” Dan murmurs right into Phil’s ear. “Don’t be. Don’t stop.” He kisses along Phil’s jaw as Phil slides his hands back down.

“You like it?” his voice is so deep, so sexy.

Dan just nods and Phil runs a finger down between the cheeks. He has to sink his mouth down on Phil’s to keep from moaning just from pure anticipation when he feels the tip of his finger run lightly across his rim. It doesn’t elicit much sensation in and of itself but just the knowledge that Phil is touching him there is enough to make him wish they were both naked and ready to take it a step further.

“Do you want it like that?” Phil whispers.

Dan nods again. He doesn’t care about the little nagging feeling he has in the back of his mind that tells him it means something a little more than anything they’ve done so far. He doesn’t actually believe it, and also he just… doesn’t care. He doesn’t fucking care anymore. He wants Phil inside him and fingers are a good start.

“Do you have lube?”

Fuck. He definitely doesn’t have lube. “No. Fuck, I don’t.” He drops his forehead down onto Phil’s shoulder. He wants to suggest that he doesn’t care, spit will work fine, or maybe the hand cream he thinks he has in his bathroom or the olive oil he probably has in the kitchen, but no. That would come across desperate and he doesn’t want that.

He doesn't want to feel desperate anymore, even though that’s exactly what he’s quickly becoming at the hands of this man.

“How do you usually do it?” Phil asks. His hands are still on Dan’s ass, still driving Dan slightly mad with how much he wants it.

“I don’t. It’s been fucking ages.” In a strange way that may actually be one of the more truthful and personal details he’s shared with Phil so far.

“Maybe you should pick some up. Or…”

“What?” Dan asks, hopeful despite himself.

“I could go get mine.”

Dan bites his lip. He wants to say yes. Every hormone added cell in his body screams at him to say yes. But for once he listens to his brain, which tells him if he lets Phil get up and walk away right now the panic about the blurring lines between friendship and something more may return with a vengeance and he doesn’t want that. If it’s going to happen let it happen later. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment with his own stupidity.

He shakes his head. “Don’t want you to leave.”

“I’d come back.”

Dan shakes his head again. “Don’t wanna risk it.” He realizes after he’s said it that it comes across just as desperate as using cooking oil for lube, and maybe even in a worse kind of way, but the smile that spreads across Phil’s face is worth it.

“You’re like, super cute.”

“I’m not. I’m manly as fuck.”

“That’s true,” Phil murmurs, dragging his finger up along Dan’s crack again.

“Now you’re just being mean,” Dan says.

“Sorry,” Phil chuckles. “I guess I’ll have to figure out another way to get you off.”

 

“I’m starving.” He’s barely got his breath back, but his stomach is growling like it’s been empty for days.

“Me too.” Phil agrees, smiling. “You wore me out, I need to refuel.”

“I don’t think I really have any food,” Dan says sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Do you have cereal?”

“Um… yeah, I think. No milk though. I just used up the last of it last night”

“That’s ok, I like it dry.”

“You like dry cereal?” Dan asks incredulously. “Is that like, a lactose intolerance thing?”

Phil shakes his head. “Just a Phil thing. That reminds me though, we still need to get ice cream. Are you busy today?”

Dan rolls onto his side and props himself up on one elbow, leaning the side of his face against his palm. He can’t help looking at Phil with a giant smile. Two minutes ago this man had given Dan yet another improbably forceful orgasm and now he’s sat up in Dan’s bed rambling about ice cream and just being too bloody endearing for words.

Dan shakes his head. “Not busy, but it’s not really, like, ice cream weather?” He juts his chin out, gesturing in the direction of the open window and the raindrops that slide down the glass.

Phil turns to look. “You’d let a little rain stop you?”

“Maybe we could get coffee instead,” Dan offers.

“Fine, coffee then. But we’re getting ice cream as soon as the rain stops. And I still want cereal first.”

Dan hauls himself up and steps over Phil’s legs and onto the floor. He’s still naked and he can feel Phil’s eyes on him as he walks to the kitchen to fetch the Crunchy Nut out of the cupboard. He brings it back and hands it to Phil.

They sit side by side in Dan’s bed and take turns grabbing out handfuls of dry cereal. It’s the nicest breakfast Dan’s had in ages.

 

Phil buys the coffee. Well, he buys himself coffee and tea for Dan. They get lucky and find a free set of armchairs near the window in the corner of the shop.

Phil’s got whipped cream on his chin. Dan wishes he was close enough to reach over and swipe it off with his thumb. Instead he just chuckles and says, “You’re rubbish at being lactose intolerant.” He rubs his finger against his own chin to signal Phil’s mess.

“Worth it,” Phil says happily, swiping at the cream with the sleeve of his hoodie.

Dan’s hoodie. The red one that says Manchester University on it. The one Dan had leant him because it was rainy and for some reason he didn’t want to suggest they stop into Phil’s flat and grab a jacket.

He wanted to see Phil in his hoodie and now he can’t stop sneaking little glances, because it looks good on him. It’s a little too big, the collar is loose and the sleeves are baggy, but the red pops against his fair complexion and brings out the pink in his lips. He’s got the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, one hand in the pocket and the other clutching his white porcelain mug.

He turns his head then and catches Dan looking. He smiles. “How’s your tea?”

Dan just gives him a rather lame thumbs up.

“It’s not ice cream though, right?”

Dan stretches his leg out and gives Phil’s foot a playful kick.

Phil laughs as he brings the rim of his mug up to his lips. Dan thinks he should probably stop staring, but Phil’s glasses fog up a little every time he takes a sip of his latte and for some reason that feels like an important detail to catalogue. As does the fact that Phil’s sweatpants are dark grey and fitted and cropped at the ankles so that a little peek of pale skin is visible between the trousers and his socks. One of those ankles rests casually on his knee, his big foot in its white tennis shoe bopping along in time to whatever bland generic music plays quietly from the speaker in the ceiling.

Dan tears his eyes away and takes a sip of still too hot tea. It’s spicy and sweet and he feels it warming his throat on the way down.

They’re not talking and it feels almost nostalgic, if it’s possible to be nostalgic for things that happened only a few weeks ago. It just feels right when they’re like this, sharing the same space and existing in a moment together without having to speak. It’s comforting. He looks out the window and watches the rain fall on the passing cars.

He allows himself one more side eyed glance at Phil and sees that he’s looking out the window too.

 

“I have this like, convention thing I have to go to next week,” Phil says, apropos of absolutely nothing as they’re sat on Phil’s sofa, trading off with the controller as they play sonic 4.

“Oh, yeah?” Dan asks. It’s only been a few days since Phil had even told him what he does for a living and he’d been pretty clear about not wanting to discuss the details, so it’s a little jarring to hear him mention this so casually.

Phil nods. “Just thought… I dunno. Thought maybe I should tell you. You know, we’ve been…”

Now Dan nods. He doesn’t really get it but then again, maybe he does. They’ve spent a lot of time together these past few days. If Dan’s not at work he’s with Phil. They haven’t spent the night together again, though. That seems to be silently accepted by both of them as a step further than they’re willing to take. Those are reserved for emotional breakdowns and moments of extreme weakness, at least on Dan’s part.

Honestly, he’s still not entirely sure what Phil thinks of this whole thing. He’s seemed happy to pick up whatever Dan’s thrown down so far.

“I’ll be gone for like a week,” Phil adds and now Dan gets it.

It surprises him how much the thought of a week without Phil instantly disappoints him. “Oh. Really? Is it for…?”

“Uh, yeah. For work. Google thing in America.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Dan says, trying to sound enthusiastic, trying to ignore the irrational panic that Phil will forget about him as soon as he’s gone. Or maybe just realize that he could do so much better than a clingy and somehow simultaneously distant stranger and he should cut ties while there’s some forced distance. “That’ll be fun, yeah?”

“Mmm, I dunno. Maybe for like a day. Mostly it’ll be boring meetings and awkward panels and forced socializing with people I only know superficially. I’m not really good at that kind of thing.”

“You’re good with— I mean you seem fine to me,” Dan mumbles.

Phil dies in the game then and hands the controller back to Dan. “You’re a strange exception to the rule. Normally I’m super awkward and like, anxious.”

“Do you have to go? Could you just… not?”

“I mean I guess I could, but I already said yes ages ago and it’s good for like, exposure and setting up collabs and—” he cuts himself off.

Dan’s in the middle of the game, so he can’t look over at Phil as he’d like to, but he can see in his periphery that Phil is looking at him.

“Sorry. You don’t need to hear about that stuff.”

Dan frowns in the direction of the screen. “What? That’s your rule not mine. I thought you didn’t wanna talk about it.”

“It’s fine. It’s just like, a necessary evil kind of thing, I guess. I really shouldn’t complain anyway. How many people would literally kill to be in my shoes?”

Dan waits a few minutes before he says anything again. He doesn’t want to pry, but he’s really rather desperately curious now. He waits until he’s died in the game and given the controller back to Phil.

“Where in America?” He asks, changing the subject just enough that he hopes Phil won’t get spooked off the topic entirely.

“California.”

“Shit, man. Like LA?”

“Basically, kind of.”

“And you’re really not excited?”

“I mean, America does have IHOP. I reckon that’s reason enough not to regret the trip.”

Dan chuckles. “Why am I not surprised you love pancakes?”

“And waffles. Don’t forget waffles.”

Dan pulls his legs up and crosses them underneath his body. He’s not looking at the television anymore, not paying attention to Phil botching the game. He’s angled his body to the side and he’s looking at Phil. He’s so cute when they game. He gets this look on his face, so focused and intense for how rubbish he actually is at it. Sometimes his tongue even pokes out between his teeth in moments of concentration.

“I’ve never actually been,” Dan says casually.

“What, really?”

“Nope.”

Phil frowns. “That is a travesty. You’re coming with me next time. They have freaking cupcake pancakes, Dan. Cupcake pancakes.”

“Sounds sweet,” Dan murmurs, smiling.

“They’re freaking orgasmic.”

“Phil,” Dan says, voice suddenly stern.

“What?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“Okay…” He definitely sounds nervous, and Dan has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“It may upset you, but just… just please try to keep an open mind, alright?”

“Dan what the hell.”

“I actually…” he draws his words out, just for optimal comedic effect when he continues, “I actually prefer savory breakfast.”

“Get out of my house,” Phil deadpans.

“I’m sorry, mate. I really am. I hope this doesn’t come between us. I hope we can work past this.”

“I don’t know. I feel a little betrayed.” Phil dies again and instead of handing the controller to Dan he tosses it in the other direction, into the corner of the sofa. “I give up on this.”

“Because you’re too emotionally distraught by my confession?” Dan teases.

“Maybe. Maybe I just wanna curl up and watch Buffy,”

“Should I clear out and leave you to wallow in peace?”

“You better not.” He gets up and puts the disc in the blu-ray. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave,” he says.

Dan watches the adverts before the main menu as he waits for Phi, who comes back a few minutes later in just a t-shirt and blue Calvin’s, his duvet wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.

Dan cocks an eyebrow. “We getting cozy, or…?” His eyes flick down exaggeratedly to take in Phil’s long bare legs.

“Cozy,” Phil says, but Dan doesn’t miss the little smirk he lets quirk his lips before he turns out all the lights and sinks back down into the sofa.

He finds the episode they’d left off at and presses play. Dan’s still sat on the other end of the sofa with his legs folded under him. A few minutes into the show Phil looks at him and says, “I don’t bite.” He’s got his blanket draped over his legs, which are outstretched, feet resting on the coffee table, but Dan can still see the blue of his pants and it looks… inviting.

Phil lifts his arm for Dan to snuggle up under but Dan ignores that. Instead he untucks his legs and shifts onto his side and lays his head down right in Phil’s lap. He faces the television and watches the screen, but he knows it’s only a matter of time until he’s not paying attention in the slightest. They’ve been together for most of the day and haven’t touched each other yet and seeing Phil in his underwear is embarrassingly effective at reminding Dan just how fucking fit he is.

Besides, that’s what this whole thing is about, right?

“Do you want the blanket?” Phil asks softly.

Dan shakes his head, half because he actually doesn’t and half because he knows the motion will be a tease for Phil. “I’m warm already.”

Phil slides a hand into Dan’s hair and massages his fingers gently into his scalp and Dan sighs. It feels so good he thinks maybe the teasing can wait a little longer. Maybe he actually will watch Buffy for a while and let Phil play with his hair.

They watch for a while, Phil raking his fingers through Dan’s curls and rubbing his head. Well, Phil’s watching. Dan tries, but he finds he just doesn’t care. Phil’s hands are distracting enough, but he’s also just… thinking. He can’t stop thinking about how soon Phil will be gone and Dan will be alone again, and how much it’s starting to bother him that he doesn’t really know what Phil will actually be _doing._

He doesn’t really know what Phil does, and he hadn’t really given it much thought until now, because he’d known Phil didn’t want to talk about it. And probably he still doesn’t. But that reluctance in and of itself is starting to niggle at Dan somewhere deep, in the same place that makes his stomach drop at the idea of being without Phil, even if just for a week.

“Phil?”

“Hm?”

“Have you… have you done another liveshow since the one where-- where people were asking about me?”

“No. I usually only do one a week, like, maximum. I find them a little stressful sometimes.”

“Why do you do them?”

“Um, there are a couple reasons, really. One makes me sound like a complete bastard though.”

“But not the other one?” Dan asks, trying to keep his the tone of his voice something like mildly curious but not overly bothered. He doesn’t want to scare Phil off or seem too pushy.

“The other one is like, the one you’re supposed to say. And it’s still true, but it’s not like, the whole truth, y’know?”

Dan chuckles. “Not really. I don’t really understand any of this stuff. But… you could tell me? If you want. I won’t judge you. I could tell you something that makes me sound like a bastard too if it’d make you feel better.”

“I bet you couldn’t even come up with something if you tried,” Phil says softly.

Dan twists his head round to look up at Phil. “You think I’m good?”

Phil looks down and smiles. “The best, I reckon.”

It takes every ounce of willpower Dan has not to sit up and climb into Phil’s lap and crush their mouths together. Instead he smiles back and says, “Well nevermind, then. I don’t want to do anything to convince you otherwise.” He turns back to face the telly before he lets the swirling of fondness in his chest prompt him to say anything else. Anything worse.

“You could still tell me, though. I still won’t judge.”

“Well I mean… people like it,” Phil says. “I think they like feeling like, connected to me. And sometimes that’s nice for me too. Sometimes they ask interesting questions or say nice things.”

“Sometimes?”

“Yeah. A lot of the time it just ends up making me feel like a performing monkey in a cage or something. They almost always seem to want to know about things I don’t want to share.”

“Like… me?” Dan asks.

“Yeah.” He sounds sad now, and Dan kind of regrets bringing it up at all.

“What’s the other thing? The bastard thing?”

Phil sighs. “Money, I guess.”

“Oh. You get paid for that?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t understand how that makes you a bastard,” Dan says. “Everyone has to make money.”

“I guess it’s just… I don’t know. I used to enjoy it. I used to be excited about filming videos and I didn’t dread doing liveshows and stuff. I guess I kinda feel like it’s not fun anymore and, yeah. Makes me feel guilty.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan says quietly. He hadn’t been expecting a confession like that. “That doesn’t make you a bastard though. Lots of people bloody _hate_ their jobs. I know I did.”

“Oh yeah? What… what did you do?” Phil asks, clearly hesitant.

Dan just shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. That was my old life and I’m never gonna go back to it.” His voice is harder than he really means for it to be. He doesn’t blame Phil for asking, he just… he really doesn’t want to think about it.

“Sorry,” Phil mumbles.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be a dick. I just--”

“It’s fine, Dan. Just because I tell you things doesn’t mean you have to te--”

“I worked at a law firm,” Dan blurts. “And I fucking hated it. Hated every second of it.”

“You have a law degree?” He sounds impressed and Dan hates how much he likes that, the little surge of pride it gives him.

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“It was a waste of my life. Never once did I enjoy it.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil says again. “I’m really sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

“I just… I don’t have anything good to say about my old life. It’s all sad and horrible and I just don’t…”

“It’s fine, Dan. You don’t have to.”

Dan turns around then, not just his head but his whole body, so he’s facing into Phil’s body. He looks up and Phil looks down, still with one hand buried in Dan’s hair.

“Are you gonna tell people about me in your next liveshow?”

Phil’s face remains impressively impassive, not giving anything away. “Should I?”

“Do you think it would make things feel better?” Dan asks.

“I… don’t know. I don’t know.”

“What about… what if you like, introduced me to them.” Dan surprises even himself.

“You mean like… you’d do that?” Phil asks, frowning. “You’d come on my stream with me?”

Dan shrugs. “If you want. It’s just an idea. They could see that we’re… friends. And then maybe they’d shut up about it and you’d feel better.”

Dan feels sure he has other motives than that, but he’s not willing to admit them to himself right now.

Phil looks admittedly a little taken aback. “Can I… can I think about it?”

“Of course. I just want to help, if I can. I just feel bad if I like, fucked anything up for you.”

“You didn’t. You really didn’t. It’s all my own weird bullshit.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” Dan says quietly.

Phil just shakes his head. He’s looking down at Dan so intently. Their eyes remain locked for a long time. Dan knows he should turn back around and pretend to watch the show, because he’s quickly coming to understand that Phil’s eyes are dangerous territory for him.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to forget about me while you’re gone?”

Phil huffs, a little breathy sound of disbelief. “You’re actually a bloody moron, you know that?”

“I do actually. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Phil lifts his hand from Dan’s scalp and lays it flat against Dan’s forehead, pushing his curly fringe out of the way. “I couldn’t forget about you if I tried,” he whispers.

That’s too much for Dan. The flutter it elicits in his gut is too much and he has to look away, has to roll forward and hide his face. It just so happens that hiding his face means pushing it right into Phil’s clothed crotch, a fact Dan had somehow managed to forget.

He feels his face press against Phil’s soft cock and Phil makes a little noise, a little hitch in his breath.

This is good, Dan thinks. This is the perfect way to distract himself. To distract them both. One more word like that from Phil and Dan knows he won’t be able to stop himself from free-falling. It’s probably already begun anyway, but Phil’s cock is a good excuse to push it to the back of his mind, even if just for a little while.

He parts his lips and fits them against the shape of Phil. He breathes hot against the material and Phil makes another quiet nose, a barely audible groan in the back of his throat. Dan uses just the gentlest hint of teeth and feels Phil harden a little beneath his mouth.

“Pull it out for me,” Dan breathes.

Phil pulls the band down just far enough to give Dan the access he’s looking for. He’s still mostly soft, and that suits Dan just fine. He fits his mouth around the head and suckles at the silky, still loose skin. It feels somehow even more intimate this way, feeling Phil growing inside his mouth as he sucks.

He’s not using any tricks-- in fact he’s being lazy, finding that he really likes the way it feels to have Phil inside him before he’s fully erect.

But still, it doesn’t take Phil long. Soon he’s hard as a rock and just so big. Dan does the best he can at this slightly awkward angle, but he can only take Phil about halfway down, and he can’t really get any sort of rhythm going.

Phil doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His hand is in Dan’s hair again, his thumb stroking gently against Dan’s temple. Everything is so slow and deliciously unhurried.

Phil lets out another quiet breathy moan. “You feel so good, Dan.”

Dan’s stomach flips. He’s learning that nothing gets him going quite like Phil’s praise. He doesn’t think twice about pulling his own joggers down and wrapping his hand around himself.

It takes a long time. Dan tugs at himself intermittently and sucks Phil slowly, stopping often to pull off and just run his tongue up and down, to lick across Phil’s tip and let the bitter taste bloom. At some point Phil fumbles for the remote and mutes the show and then all that can be heard in the room is the soft wet sounds Dan’s mouth makes against Phil’s cock.

He’s almost disappointed when he feels that familiar insistent tugging in the pit of his stomach. He pulls off and lets Phil’s cock rest heavy against his cheek as he brings himself off, making a right mess of his hand and his t-shirt.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil says, voice deep. He takes hold of himself and starts jerking and Dan’s still too caught up in riding the waves to do anything but watch.

“I’m gonna come.”

Dan thinks Phil probably means it as a warning and not an invitation, but all Dan wants is to feel it, to taste him as he comes. He opens his mouth and Phil guides himself inside and gives another couple tugs before his orgasm takes him.

Dan looks up at Phil’s face as it happens and feels as overcome as Phil looks.

Phil is fucking beautiful, and in this moment Dan hopes he’s the only one who gets to do this to Phil ever again. He doesn’t want anyone else to see Phil’s face looking like this ever again.

Eventually they clean themselves up and turn the show back on. They cuddle up under the duvet with their arms wrapped around each other and Dan pretends it doesn’t mean anything that he doesn’t get up and go back to his own flat when his eyes are too heavy to stay open any longer. He takes Phil’s hand and pulls him up off the sofa and leads him to bed.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms that night. Dan doesn’t even have the resolve to tell himself it’ll be the last time.


	12. Chapter 12

Dan wakes up in Phil’s bed, but when he reaches his arm out in search of skin, Phil’s not there. He rolls onto his back and shuffles over to the center of the bed where he spreads out his arms and legs like a starfish as he waits for Phil to return from wherever he’s gone. 

He looks up at the ceiling with sleepy eyes, waiting for the grogginess to dissipate. He always sleeps like a rock when he’s sharing the same space with Phil, and it takes him even longer to drag himself fully out of unconsciousness when he doesn’t have any wandering hands on his body.

Eventually he realizes he can hear the sound of running water and low pitched humming coming from the bathroom. So Phil’s having a shower and he’s singing while doing it. The thought makes Dan smile. It’s a perfectly normal thing to do in the shower, of course, but for some reason Dan still finds it hopelessly endearing.

He’s starting to feel a little more awake now, and remembers sadly that he actually has somewhere he needs to be today. He digs his hand into the pocket of the joggers he’d been too tired to pull off last night and pulls out his phone. He takes a quick moment to mentally brace himself before he checks the time. Ever since his birthday his mobile has felt like a ticking time bomb-- he never knows what he’s going to find waiting for him there.

Luckily there’s nothing, but it’s later than he would have liked. He doesn’t have long before he has to leave. He forces himself to sit up, letting his legs dangle over the side of the bed. He really should go back to his own flat and change his clothes, maybe even catch a quick shower of his own.

Or…

Steam warms his face as he opens the bathroom door and he’s greeted by Phil’s slightly off key rendition of My Heart Will Go On. The door clicks as he shuts it and Phil stops singing.

“Dan?”

“Morning.”

“Shit, did I wake you?”

Dan chuckles, pushing his joggers down off his hips. “I don’t know, actually. Not with your singing, anyway.” He has the thought that maybe he just… doesn’t sleep well when Phil isn’t next to him, but he’s definitely not about to say that out loud. He doesn’t even really want to think it.

“Did you want to shower, too?” Phil asks. “I can hurry up.”

Dan’s got his shirt and pants off by now, so instead of answering he pulls the curtain back a little and steps into the stream.

Phil doesn’t say anything, just looks at Dan slightly wide eyed with his hands frozen in his sudsy hair.

“Alright?” Dan asks quietly. He probably should have asked sooner, but Phil makes him bold. 

“Do you even need to ask?” Phil smiles. “You stole my water, though.”

Dan reaches out and pulls Phil in closer. Phil drops his hands from his head and wraps them loosely around Dan’s lower back while Dan reaches up to continue lathering the shampoo in Phil’s hair. 

“Did you sleep well?” Phil asks.

Dan catches himself before he says  _ I always do with you.  _ He nods. “Weirdly confused when I woke up alone, though.”

“Sorry,” Phil says. “I was kind of hoping I could do this quickly and come back to bed before you woke up. You looked so peaceful but I really needed a shower.” 

His hands are slipping very slowly down from Dan’s back to his ass.

“Dirty boy,” Dan murmurs.

Phil starts to laugh and then suddenly screws his eyes shut, sucking in a quick breath through his teeth. “Ow, shit.”

He doesn’t have to say anything, because Dan sees now that a trail of lathered up shampoo has slid down Phil’s forehead and right into his eye. 

“Ah.”

“Shit sorry,” Dan says. He puts his hands on Phil’s shoulders and carefully but surely starts moving, guiding Phil so that they switch places and Phil is the one stood directly under the stream of water. “Rinse,” he says.

Phil rinses.

“Better?” Dan asks when he’s done.

Phil nods. “Think so.”

“I was too busy trying to be enticing to use proper hair washing etiquette, I guess.”

Phil blinks his eye open then, grinning. “You don’t have to  _ try _ to be enticing, you div. You already are. Hand me the shampoo, yeah? Your turn.”

Dan narrows his eyes. “Are you out for revenge?”

“No. I need to keep my hands busy or they’re going to wander.”

“Then why the fuck would I wanna hand you the shampoo?”

“Because,” Phil says, voice pitching down into that sexy kind of growl Dan finds nearly impossible to resist. “I’m awkward and clumsy and shower sex with me would be a very bad idea.”

Dan draws Phil in closer again, wrapping a hand around his waist and pressing it flat against the small of his back until their bodies press together. It’s warm and wet and delicious and Dan would probably risk anything to have Phil right here and now. “Prove it.”

“Shampoo,” Phil counters, though the tone of his voice is still sultry and low. “I won’t be responsible for your death today.”

It’s just as well really. Dan doesn’t actually have time for any fooling around if he wants to get where he’s going on time, but he thinks it might be worth it if Phil was game. 

The hair washing feels nice though. Phil’s fingers are magic as they massage into Dan’s scalp, combing gently through the sudsy curls. He’s more careful than Dan had been, even stopping at one point to swipe soap gently off Dan’s forehead with his thumb. 

They switch positions again and Phil tells Dan to rinse. Dan closes his eyes and steps back into the flow of water and lets the shampoo run down his face. When he opens his eyes again Phil’s staring at him and biting his lip. It’s hardly fair, really, for him to look  _ that _ good and tell Dan he’s not allowed to do anything about it. 

“I’m getting out now,” Phil says after a minute of eye contact so charged Dan’s definitely starting to get a little hard. 

“What? Why? Don’t you wanna wash my back and grope my ass?”

Phil chuckles. “Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m getting out.”

Dan pouts, but Phil stays strong. “Don’t take too long.” He steps out and pulls the curtain back into place. 

Dan can hear Phil brushing his teeth as he makes quick work of lathering soap over his body. Showering has lost all its appeal now that he has to do it alone. He makes sure to get all the important bits, rinsing away the sweet smelling body wash and shutting off the water just a few minutes after Phil had taken leave of the tub.

When he pulls the curtain back and steps out onto the bath mat Phil is stood at the sink with a towel wrapped around his waist and a thin layer of shaving foam on the lower half of his face. He’s holding a razor but looks not to have actually started shaving yet.

“That was fast.”

“You told me not to take too long.” Dan is stood there naked and dripping, but there doesn’t seem to be another towel around.

“Didn’t think you were in the habit of actually doing what I tell you.”

“Depends what you’re telling me to do, mate,” Dan says, hoping he’s being as obviously flirty as he’s trying to be.

Phil closes his eyes and breathes in slowly through his nose. “Don’t do that.”

Dan smiles. He’s definitely succeeding at getting Phil flustered. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to shave and I don’t want to chop my face off.”

“Give me your towel,” Dan says.

Phil untucks the corner of the towel without a word. He pulls it off and holds it out to Dan, who steps forward to take it. Instead of actually using it to dry himself, he drapes it over the counter and turns around and hops up.

Now they’re both completely naked and Dan is sat on the counter next to the sink, facing a very confused looking Phil. He opens his legs and Phil clearly doesn’t know what’s happening, but he still takes the hint and steps forward, fitting himself in between them.

Dan wraps his legs around Phil’s waist and doesn’t miss how his breath hitches just the slightest bit. He reaches out and takes the razor from Phil’s hand. 

“What are you doing?” Phil asks softly.

“Making sure you don’t chop your face off. I like your face. It’s a good face.” 

Phil smiles and puts his hands on Dan’s thighs. “Be careful with me.”

“Lift up your chin,” Dan murmurs.

And he’s careful. He’s so careful. He drags the razor across Phil’s skin slowly and deliberately, stopping after every few strokes to rinse the blade off under hot water. He can feel Phil’s eyes on him, studying intently, but he stays focused on the pull of the steel.

Phil’s skin is like marble, smooth and so white Dan can see the winding paths of blue his veins make beneath the surface. He arches his neck and Dan takes even more care, trying to keep his hand steady as he shaves over the sharp jut of Phil’s adam’s apple. 

It’s the last spot that still has foam on it, and Dan’s been so meticulous that there are only a few tiny flecks of white left anywhere on Phil’s face. After he drops the razor into the sink, Dan leans down to press a kiss to that knot in the middle of Phil’s throat.

Phil swallows and Dan cal feel the movement on his lips.

“Smooth?” Phil asks. He sounds like they’d been doing a lot more than they really had.

“Mhm.” Dan presses another kiss a little to the side and up and then another, and another until his mouth makes its way to Phil’s jaw. “I took good care of you.” He can taste a sharp bitterness on the back of his tongue but he really couldn’t care less. 

“Again,” Phil says, sliding his hands up from Dan’s thighs to his waist. “I think it’s your turn.”

“You gonna shave my peach fuzz?” Dan laughs. 

Phil drops his chin so he can look into Dan’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

This time it’s Phil who kisses Dan, leaning in and pressing his lips to the dip behind Dan’s collarbone. Dan drapes his arms over Phil’s shoulders and linking his wrists behind Phil’s neck. He has to go. He should have already left ten minutes ago and he definitely doesn’t have time for whatever Phil’s planning.

But he’s going to stay another minute because Phil’s mouth against his wet skin is too good not to indulge in at least a little bit. He tightens his legs around Phil’s waist and pulls him in closer. It’s going to be very hard to walk away from this.

But he has to, and he knows it. When Phil’s hands start sliding down Dan’s back and he whispers, “How do you want it?” in Dan’s ear he has to summon all the restraint within himself to unhook his ankles and push gently at Phil’s shoulders.  

“I have to go,” he says and he surprises himself by sounding more in control that he actually feels. 

“Are you serious?”

Dan just smiles and nods, pushing Phil away a little further and hopping down off the counter.

“I feel like you’re punishing me for something,” Phil says, but he picks the towel up off the counter and holds it out to Dan. It’s a quick thing, almost like he’d not put that much conscious thought into it at all, but Dan notices. He hadn’t even really noticed himself that he still had some water clinging to his shoulders and chest, but apparently Phil had.

It’s so casual and yet utterly thoughtful that Dan’s momentarily unable to remember what he’s supposed to be formulating a response to. He takes the towel from Phil’s hand and wraps it around his chest.

“Are you?” Phil asks.

“Oh, uh, no. No, of course not. I actually have… I have an appointment with my-- my therapist.” He’s a bit stuttery and awkward, not sure if he should have even admitted that or not. He hasn’t really told Phil anything about that part of his life and this is just so sudden, so personal. It’s not sexy or mysterious at all, it’s just-- real. 

“Oh.”

Suddenly Dan’s heart is beating a little faster for the feeling that he’s fucked up. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Phil takes a little half step back. He’s still completely naked and now he looks a little self conscious about it. “Don’t be. I just didn’t realize you had such an important thing to get to. Uh… sorry if I like--”

“It’s fine. You didn’t do anything. I needed a shower and… well, yeah, ok maybe you distracted me a little with--” Dan rakes his eyes up and down Phil’s body.

Phil’s cheeks definitely go a little pinker. “Sorry,” he says again, but this time he’s smirking a little. 

“Stop saying that you dingus. I’m taking a rain check, ok?”

Phil nods, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. “Do you have time for coffee first?”

Dan shakes his head and drops the towel again. “I’m already late, which reminds me… can I borrow some clothes?”

 

Dan has to run to make it to his therapist’s office on time, but he manages it. He settles into a chair in the waiting room, sweating a little on Phil’s t-shirt and smiling to himself. Phil’s jeans are tight and black, just like his own are, but these are tighter. A little too tight. He’d never really noticed before, but Phil must have slightly smaller legs. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and his heart jumps. Fuck he hates that. He hates that his automatic reaction to any incoming message is fear.

He grabs the phone out of his pocket quickly and opens it up.

_ i bet you’re the hottest most well dressed guy in that waiting room. _

Dan smiles down at his phone before realizing what a right idiot he must look. He snaps his head up to make sure no one’s noticed.

Of course they haven’t. They’re all flipping through magazines or looking at their own mobiles. No one gives a shit what he does. It’s only in his head that his every move is being watched and judged. That’s one of the reasons he’s here in the first place.

_ well i’m definitely the one with the tightest trousers _

_ you’re not stretching out my favourite jeans are you? i trusted you dan _

_ look, it’s not my fault i’m so much more hench than you _ , Dan replies. He checks the time. It’s ten minutes past the time his appointment was scheduled and it irks him more than it usually would. Maybe he’d have had time for a quickie after all.

_ you’ve got some powerful thighs on you i reckon _

Dan has to bite his lip to hold in the giddy laughter that’s bubbling up inside his chest. What is he doing? Why does some simple text banter make him feel so fucking  _ happy _ ?

_ would you like to find out? _ he replies.

Phil’s response is immediate.  _ what are you doing tonight? _

They don’t end up having sex that night, at least not the kind that entails Dan proving just how powerful his thighs really are. 

He’s absolutely exhausted when he gets out of therapy, physically and emotionally drained as he always is after an hour of examining all the things that have gone wrong in his life. 

That’s not really what happens in these sessions but it might as well be. That’s what it feels like. He wonders how he always manages to forget just how strangely hollow he feels afterward. Probably it would help not to forget for weeks at a time that this is something he should be doing regularly again. 

He knows the value of therapy. He remembers how much it had helped him all those years ago, when he was young and lost and feeling like he’d never be able to claw his way up from that dark hole of nothingness. He remembers how much it had hurt at first, sharing this pain with a stranger and leaving himself open and vulnerable to judgement. He also remembers how thoroughly it had ended up transforming the world for him. Eventually he’d started seeing colour again, starting tasting his food and believing that he was a person worthy of love and good things. 

And the thing is, he isn’t even close to being in the hole now. His heart is broken and his life is a mess, but he has good days. Lots of them lately, actually. But he’d left all his good habits in a box in the house he used to live, left them amongst the abandoned pieces of who he was when he was with her, and building himself back up to a place where he can deal with all of it is-- painful. It just hurts.

Perhaps he could even try to do just one of the things the therapist suggests. He should try harder to meditate. He should try to be mindful. He should go to sleep early and work out and drink more water and do his affirmations. There is a long list of things he could and should do, but all he really wants to do is hang out with Phil.

And apparently he’s back to being scared about that. With old memories dredged back up and wounds that still haven’t healed feeling like they’ve been ripped back open after being forced to talk about them for an hour, Dan is reminded how truly fucking insane it is that he’s letting himself get to a place where he could allow that to happen again. 

So he goes home and pulls Phil’s clothes off his body and crawls into bed. He doesn’t sleep, he just lies there staring up at the ceiling and letting too many thoughts swirl around his brain. If he wanted, he could be with Phil in a matter of seconds, and he’d feel better. They could game or they could fuck… or they could just talk. No matter what they do together Dan knows it would make him feel a world away from all this. 

And that’s why he thinks he definitely shouldn’t do it. It feels good. It feels easy. 

Too good. Too easy. 

A feeling that good doesn’t come without a steep drop off on the other side. He’d learned that the hard way.

Then Phil texts him, and all his walls are instantly crumbled. He’s living in a house of cards and he can’t keep the damn thing standing long enough to keep Phil out.

_ hey mate you home yet? i’m starving and bored. i could eat alone but i’d still be bored. i could do something fun but then.. it’d be more fun to do it with you. and plus i’d still be hungry _

It’s not even a particularly clever text but it has Dan smiling and that’s not something he’d felt capable of even thirty seconds ago.

_ i’m home _ , he types. He can’t bring himself to match Phil’s enthusiasm just yet.

_ how was your appointment? _

Dan knows he should just say the generic thing of ‘it was good’ and move on. But he still feels weird and kind of shaken and in all honesty, he just kind of wants to whinge. He wants to complain about how shit he feels and know that someone cares enough to give him some sympathy. 

_ kind of draining tbh _

_ oh i’m sorry. do you want me to leave you alone? _

Dan bites his lip and stares at the message. He thinks about what his night will be if he says yes and what it’ll be if he says no and the answer is simple.

_ no _

Maybe it’s not the smart thing to do, but Dan never claimed to be smart.

_ what can i do to help _

He only has to think about it for a moment. 

_ my door is open _


	13. Chapter 13

Phil knocks quietly before he opens the door, because of course he does. Even though Dan had told him the door was open, Phil still knocks as a polite little warning that he’s there and he’s coming in. It’s just such a Phil thing to do.

He doesn’t say anything, just closes the door behind him and walks over to stand beside Dan’s bed. He looks down at Dan and waits.

Dan looks up and waits. He doesn’t even know what he’s waiting for. Maybe he just wants to look at Phil for a while. Maybe right now he’s back to thinking that all of this, everything that’s happened since he brought that post to Phil’s door has been a dream. All these hazy days and sweaty nights and the happiness Phil makes him feel-- they’re not real. They happened deep in the recesses of his own mind.

Phil is just a coping mechanism. He has to be.

“Move over,” Phil says. He sounds real enough.

Dan shuffles over to the other side of the bed, not taking his eyes off Phil as he slips in under the covers and lies down next to him. He doesn’t want to risk looking away and shattering the whole illusion.

They both lie on their backs, their heads turned on their pillows to face each other.

“You alright?” Phil asks.

Dan shrugs. He’s been worse. He’s been much worse. He just feels… _off,_ like the world is slightly tilted. Everything is just a little off kilter and somehow he’s the only one who hasn’t managed to right himself yet.

Or more likely it’s just him. He’s the off kilter one. Everyone else is upright and seeing the world as it actually is.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” Phil’s voice is deep and smooth, cutting right through Dan’s existential bullshit.

Dan turns his head, looks up at the ceiling again. “I don’t know if I can,” he says weakly.

“D’you want me to tell you something?” Phil asks. “To distract you or whatever?”

Dan nods. “That’d be good.”

“What should I tell you?”

“You could… tell me what you did today?”

“I tried to film a video, actually,” Phil says.

“Tried?”

“Yeah, I… I don’t know. It didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel interesting enough, or like…” He sighs. “Sorry. S’not important, anyway. It didn’t happen. I ended up doing some boring logistical stuff I’ve been avoiding.”

Dan frowns. “Didn’t feel like what?”

“Um… like me, I guess? I’m at a kind of— weird place. With my channel and my videos and just… all of it, lately. Like it doesn’t feel like me anymore. It still feels like the me I was when I first started.”

His brows are knit together, furrowed pensively and Dan doesn’t know what to say, if he should even say anything. He opens his mouth but snaps it back shut when he sees Phil open his.

“Or, actually no. When I started I felt like me. And then I think somewhere along the way I lost that. And it was alright for a long time because it was exciting to watch the numbers grow. Christ, that sounds awful, I know.”

Dan just shakes his head. He still doesn’t say anything, sensing Phil’s still got more say.

Phil turns his head to look up at the ceiling. “But now I’m thirty and I’m bored and I’m… I don’t know. I’m— I feel stifled by this, like, persona I’ve allowed myself to become in my videos. I don’t get excited about making things anymore. It all feels so goddamn fake.”

Dan _still_ doesn’t know what to say. It’s the most he’s ever heard Phil talk in such a short space of time and by the far the most personal. It’s jarring.

Phil chuckles but there’s no warmth in the sound. “Sorry. That was way too much. It’s just— it’s fresh in my mind after what happened earlier. I’ve never stopped a video mid-shoot like that. And thinking about going to the thing in America and having to meet so many people and talk about my channel right now, it’s…”

He looks at Dan again then, like he’s realizing how out of character this has been for him. “Crap, sorry. I shouldn’t even be— this is supposed to be about you. I’m supposed to be comforting you, not dumping all my own shit on—”

“It’s fine,” Dan interrupts. “It’s good. You can say whatever you want. Dump away.”

Phil smiles. “I think I’ve dumped enough for now.”

Dan doesn’t smile back. He’s looking at Phil and the smile he’s forcing for Dan, the manufactured breeziness of his tone and his words, like this isn’t killing him inside a little. Dan doesn’t know Phil that well but he knows he’s going through something right now, just like Dan is. He can just tell.

“What are you going to do?” Dan asks softly.

Phil’s smile fades. “I don’t know,” he says after a while.

“Can’t you just… make what you want? It’s your channel, right?”

Phil shrugs. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like mine anymore. And… I dunno. Change is scary.”

Dan can’t help chuckle at that. “Yeah, fuck. It is. Sometimes it’s good though.”

“I know. I just don’t know where to start. Or how. At this point my whole branding is basically super impersonal.”

“You want it to be more personal?”

Phil starts chewing absentmindedly on his lip. “I dunno. I think maybe it might help.”

“Maybe you could start small. It doesn’t have to be this like, huge change overnight, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Phil says hesitantly.

He doesn’t sound convinced. Maybe Dan is pushing somewhere Phil’s not ready to be pushed yet.

“Sorry,” Dan mumbles. “I reckon I shouldn’t act like I know anything about anything.”

“No, it’s good. It’s like… it scares me to think about all this stuff but I need to start. I need to start thinking of solutions instead of just wallowing in the problem.”

“We don’t have to talk about that now, though, if it stresses you out,” Dan says softly.

Phil laughs, and again the sound is colder than a laugh should be. “Everything stresses me out.”

“Mood.”

“I mean, except, you know…” Phil gestures towards Dan. “You.”

Dan feels that one in his chest. “Yeah. You too.”

Phil shuffles against the sheets, moving closer to Dan until he’s close enough to let his head rest against Dan’s bare shoulder. They’re quiet for a while, Dan trying to process everything Phil had just shared.

“So,” he says eventually. “Is that what this is all about?”

“What d’you mean?” Phil asks.

“Like… this.” He grabs Phil’s hand under the covers and laces their fingers together. “Is it all because you were bored?”

“I mean… maybe. Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe it was at first.” He squeezes Dan’s hand. “Is that bad?”

“No. We didn’t even know each other. It… it makes sense. You were bored and I was sad.”

“You _are_ sad,” Phil says quietly. “Right?”

“I’m a little sad tonight,” Dan admits after a quiet beat. “Yeah.”

“Just tonight?”

Dan doesn’t say anything. What could he even say?

“I’m not going to push you,” Phil says gently. “Just want you to know you can talk to me if you want.”

Dan takes a deep breath that shakes a little on the way out. “The thing is… I don’t want to talk about it. Because I’m not sad when I’m with you.”

“Except right now.”

“I just… It was a hard session. It reminded me of things I don’t want to think about. And also things I should be doing that I’m not.”

“Like what?” Phil asks.

“Just like, basic stuff. Stuff most people don’t even have to think twice about.”

“Give me an example.”

“Like…” Dan thinks for a moment. “Eating.”

“Have you eaten today?”

Dan lays his hand flat against the slight concavity of his empty stomach. “Uh… fuck. No.”

Phil pulls his phone out of his pocket. “What should we eat?”

 

Half an hour later they’re sat up in Dan’s bed with an open box of pizza at their feet.

“Probably my therapist would have suggested like, a salad, or quinoa or something,” Dan says, at the same time as he’s inhaling it faster than he’s ever eaten anything else in his life.

“Next time,” Phil says, his mouth stuffed almost as full as Dan’s. “Next time we’ll get something super healthy.”

Dan hides his smile behind more pizza. He likes the sound of next time. It’s so casual. Phil didn’t even have to think about it.

But something else pulls in Dan’s gut. He wonders if this giddiness will ever cease to be immediately followed by fear. He doesn’t want it anymore. This duality is fucking exhausting and he doesn’t want it.

“You ok?” Phil asks.

“What?” He must have been frowning, Dan thinks, or staring off.

“Junk food not doing the trick?”

“Oh. No, it’s good. My stomach is well happy now.”

“But _you’re_ not.”

“I’m fine.”

Phil crams the rest of his pizza into his mouth and looks at Dan defiantly while he chews. After he finally swallows it down he starts licking the grease off his fingers.

Dan laughs. “You’re kind of a slob, aren’t you?”

“What, no I’m not. Dunno what you’re talking about.” He wipes whatever oil and sauce and spit is left on his hands against his sweatpants for good measure.

“You are _definitely_ a slob.” Dan says, crinkling his nose in mock disgust.

“Isn’t there something about like, pots and kettles being black or something like that, mate?” Phil asks, gesturing to Dan’s admittedly dusty and generally unkempt-looking flat.

“Shut up,” Dan mumbles.

“Where’s your laptop?”

Dan narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I came over here to make you feel better and that’s what I’m going to do. Pizza didn’t work, I have to move on to plan b.”

“What’s plan b?”

“Well why don’t you get me your laptop and I’ll show you.”

Dan reaches into the space between the mattress and the wall and pulls the old thing out and hands it to Phil.

“I’m scared.”

Phil smiles as he sets the computer on his lap and opens it up. “Don’t be. You’re gonna piss yourself laughing.”

He picks it back up and holds it out for Dan to type in his password. “Anything you need to hide before I actually use the internet on this thing?” Phil asks as Dan types.

“If you wanna look at my weird porn that’s on you, mate. Don’t blame me for the nightmares.” He presses enter and Phil puts the laptop back on his legs.

“How do you know mine’s not even weirder, though? That’s pretty presumptuous of you, Dan.”

Dan just smiles, watching as Phil opens up a new window on Chrome and goes to the YouTube homepage. “Found a good cat video you’re dying to share?”

“Shut up,” Phil says, bumping his shoulder into Dan’s playfully.

Dan’s heart kicks when he sees what Phil types into the search bar. _Phil’s video blog 2006._

The first video that comes up is a black and white thumbnail of a younger-looking Phil.

“Are you…?”

“Shh,” Phil says, pressing his finger to Dan’s lips. “Let me do this before I get too freaked out.”

“You don’t have to—”

Phil presses play on the video and instantly Dan shuts up— he really wants to see this.

Video Phil starts talking. “Hi I’m Phil. Welcome to my video blog, which I hope you’re very excited to be a part of.”

Dan finds himself grinning uncontrollably as the video continues. He doesn’t laugh like Phil had promised, but he definitely feels a kind of  warmth. Phil doesn’t really say anything interesting or clever. His hair is long and flopping into his eyes and the camera quality is shockingly poor, but it’s so earnest and genuine that Dan understands completely why Phil has amassed a following of people desperate to get to know him better.

He’s a sweetheart. He is now and Dan can tell that he was back then, too.

When it’s over, Phil stops the autoplay before another video can start.

“Aw, just one?” Dan teases, but he _is_ genuinely a little disappointed. He’s had a taste of AmazingPhil and now he wants more.

“I think that’s enough humiliation for one day.” Phil shuts the laptop and slips it back between the bed and the wall.

“You’re not actually humiliated, are you?”

Phil shrugs. “A little. But you’re smiling now, so it was worth it.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. That was adorable. How old were you there?”

“I think I was… nineteen? It’s the first video I ever posted. Well, the first one I posted and didn’t delete anyway. The ones before were literally too cringe for the internet.”

Dan shakes his head a little, eyes studying the way Phil’s cheeks have gone a little pink from what he assumes is embarrassment. He hates that. Suddenly it’s not funny to him at all. “You’re too hard on yourself, Phil.”

“I reckon I’m not the only one,” Phil says softly. “Am I?”

Dan turns his head away and stares at the half empty pizza box at his feet. “I guess not.”

Phil seems to sense that Dan’s just not ready to go there yet, so he changes the subject, putting the focus squarely back on himself, for which Dan is incredibly grateful.

“I mean, it’s not like all my videos are like that one. I think they got better eventually, after a couple years. They got weirder, anyway, like once I started studying editing at York.”

“You studied editing? Like… film editing?”

“Eventually, yeah, and special effects. After doing the practical degree my parents wanted me to do, of course.”

“And is that what you want to get back to? With your videos, I mean.”

Phil sighs. “Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I should be finding a way to get to who I am _now_ instead of back to something I was then, y’know?”

“Who are you now?” Dan asks.

Phil looks at Dan, and maybe for the first time ever, his eyes are well and truly sad. “I think I’m… lost.”

Dan only looks into Phil’s eyes another moment before moving the duvet aside and climbing into Phil’s lap. He just… he can’t handle Phil looking sad like that. It feels wrong and Dan doesn’t know if words on their own are enough to ease that pain right now.

He drapes his arms over Phils shoulders and says, “I’m lost too.”

Phil’s head is tilted down, his eyes roving over Dan’s body instead of looking up at his face. Dan’s still wearing nothing more than a pair of Phil’s pants, and he feels exposed as Phil stares.

Phil slides his hands up Dan’s thighs and over his boxers to rest gently on Dan’s hips, still not looking up into Dan’s eyes when he says, quietly, “Maybe we could be lost together.”

Something moves inside Dan then. He doesn’t even know what that togetherness actually means to Phil, what kind of rules or expectations might be implied, but he doesn’t care. In this moment, the answer is yes.

Dan puts his hand under Phil’s chin and pushes gently, tilting his head up so they can look at each other properly. He leans down and presses a kiss to Phil’s soft lips, because he still doesn’t have the right words. He reckons he’d fuck it all up if he tried to speak, and they’re both fucked up enough as it is.

Phil deserves to be happy. Dan’s pretty sure he knows that now. Phil deserves so many things -- all the things, really -- the very least of which is happiness. And Dan can tell that whatever _together_ means to Phil-- it makes him happy.

He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist and squeezes, kissing back with a smiling mouth. Dan wraps his legs around Phil’s waist and his fingers find paths in Phil’s hair, paths that are beginning to feel familiar.

Dan doesn’t really know what he’s just agreed to, but it’s maybe the first time since meeting Phil that his elation hasn’t run parallel with panic.

Because Phil’s not the bad guy here. Phil isn’t distant or closed off or untrustworthy. He’s not guarding his secrets from Dan, he’s sharing them. He hasn’t given Dan a single reason to believe he’s going to take this all away tomorrow and leave Dan with nothing.

If anything Dan’s the one keeping himself at a distance, giving Phil reason after reason not to get invested, not to confide. And yet here Phil is, sharing his life and his craft and his hopes and his fears and still asking for togetherness.

What kind of idiot would say no that?

Dan doesn’t want to be an idiot anymore. So he kisses Phil’s lips with all the intensity and passion of the unspoken answer he wants to give. _We are lost, but we are lost together._

 

Some time later, Phil pulls his mouth off Dan’s suddenly, hands pushing on Dan’s waist.

“Dan.”

“What?” Dan asks, mildly alarmed, heart pounding.

“I still don’t even know your name.”

“Pretty sure you do.”

“You know I’m Phil Lester, but—”

“Philip Lester,” Dan corrects.

“Right.” Phil smiles. “But I don’t know you. You’re just Dan.”

“Maybe I like being mysterious.”

Phil doesn’t look pleased, but Dan’s not sure he could find a word to describe the exact emotion that flits across Phil’s face.

“I know you do,” he says sadly.

It’s true, he does. Or he did anyway. He liked that Phil knew next to nothing about him. In Dan’s mind it meant not giving up the only thing he had control over anymore. It meant not giving Phil the ammunition to hurt him.

But things are starting to feel different now. Now he just wants to make Phil happy. He still doesn’t want to share everything, but he thinks his name is safe.

“It’s Howell.”

“Dan Howell,” Phil repeats.

“Technically Daniel.”

“What’s your middle name?” Phil asks

Dan chuckles. “James. You?”

“Michael.”

Dan picks up Phil’s hand and gives it a shake. “Nice to meet you.”

Phil shakes back before letting go of Dan’s hand. Then suddenly Phil’s arms are around Dan’s back, supporting his weight as he picks Dan up off his lap and pushes him down onto the bed. It’s a surprisingly deft movement for someone as uncoordinated as Phil and it leaves Dan reeling as Phil’s weight presses down on him. Phil’s hips are pushing against Dan’s inner thighs and Dan finds himself wishing there was a lot less clothing between them.

“I guess we’re not strangers anymore,” Phil whispers.

Dan is honestly surprised to find that those words don’t scare him at all. He grabs the back of Phil’s neck and pulls him down, kissing him hard and licking into his mouth. He’s past the point of restraint now, the need to feel Phil as close as possible eclipsing everything else.

It only takes a few minutes before Dan is achingly hard and rutting up into Phil’s crotch, and the hardness that thrusts back against him tells him Phil is feeling the same way.

“I want you,” Dan whispers, right into Phil’s ear.

“You’ve got me.”

“No, I mean like…” He reaches down between their bodies and rubs Phil’s cock over his sweatpants. “I _want_ you.”

Phil nuzzles his face into Dan’s neck, pushing into Dan’s hand. “How?”

Dan giggles. “Phil I want you to fuck me, I don’t know how much clearer I can be.”

Phil groans quietly. “Do you have lube this time?”

“Fuck.” He’d forgotten his plans to make sure he was stocked for the next time he found himself underneath Phil like this, but unlike last time, he doesn’t think twice about making his desperation known.

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t need it.”

Phil pulls back, pushing himself up so he’s sat back on his heels. Dan whines at the loss of contact.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Dan,” Phil says gently. “But I won’t do that. I’d never do anything that could hurt you.”

“Sorry.” Dan sits up and pulls his knees to his chest. “I didn’t mean— I just meant we could use something else. Sorry.”

“I just don’t want to half ass it, y’know?”

Dan smirks. “Obviously I don’t either. You’re big but I can take it.”

Phil’s eyes widen before he hides his face in his hands.

“Too much?” Dan asks.

“I hate you,” Phil mumbles against his fingers.

“Why? It’s a compliment. Your dick is perfect.”

“Stop.”

“It is though. I miss it.”

“It’s only been like a day,” Phil says, finally pulling his hands from his red-splotched cheeks.

“Yeah. Exactly. Do you not miss mine?” Dan teases.

“I mean… that’s different.”

“Is it?”

Phil nods.

“Why?”

Phil just shakes his head and smiles sheepishly.

“Ok, right. So no ‘half assing,’” Dan air quotes. “What does that mean exactly? Like, are you not— do you not wanna do that with me?”

“I do. I really do.”

“Do you prefer to do it the other way?” Dan asks.

“I mean I would if that’s what you wanted.”

“But what do you _prefer?_ ”

Phil grins then and pushes Dan back down into the mattress. His lips brush Dan’s ear as he says, “I definitely want to fuck you.”

Dan’s stomach flips and he’s about to bite down on Phil’s neck or reach down and pull out his cock or _something, anything,_ but Phil pulls away again.

“Mate are you trying to kill me?” Dan asks, chest heaving as he watches in disbelief as Phil reaches across him and grabs a piece of pizza out of the box at the foot of the bed.

Phil settles back into a comfortable sitting position against the wall and grins. “Nope. Just hungry.”

Dan scrunches up his eyes and scrubs his hands down over his face. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to will his body to calm down. “You’re mean,” he mumbles.

“M’not. C’mere,” Phil garbles over a mouthful of food. He opens his legs and pats the space between them. “Come sit.”

“What are we doing?” Dan asks, nonetheless crawling over to sit exactly where Phil had told him to. “Why is your cock not inside me in some capacity already?” He turns around and leans his back into Phil’s chest.

“Because anything we do right now is going to feel like a disappointment compared to what you actually _want_ to do right now.”

“It won’t, I promi—”

Phil reaches around and cups his hand over Dan’s mouth and Dan is transported back to the loo at the aquarium and how hot and filthy that was and it definitely isn’t helping calm him down if that’s what Phil is trying to do.

“Don’t worry,” Phil says, voice low. “I’m going to take care of you tonight. I just want to wait.”

“Don’t you have lube in your flat?” Dan asks through Phil’s fingers.

“No. I thought I did, but turns out I don’t. It’s… yeah, it’s been ages for me as well.”

Dan can’t think of what to say, he’s too busy trying to suppress the happiness he feels even just knowing Phil had bothered to look.

“Besides,” Phil continues. “You wouldn’t be getting my best right now anyway. I’ve got half a pizza in me.”

“More than half, now,” Dan points out.

“Shut up,” Phil says playfully, dropping his hand. “I just want our first time to be--” He cuts himself off, but Dan’s already grinning. Maybe Phil is even more of a sap than he thought.

“It wouldn’t be our first time, anyway,” Dan says softly. “We’ve done plenty of stuff. And you’re always good. Like, really good.”

Phil tosses his half eaten piece of pizza over Dan’s shoulder and into the box before wrapping his arms around Dan’s shoulders and squeezing. Dan reaches up and wraps his hand around Phil’s forearm. The moment is charged, but in a much different way than it had been just a few minutes ago. Dan’s chest is tight with pure, blind affection and suddenly he doesn’t give a shit about sex or lube or any of it, he just wants to stay wrapped up in Phil’s arms like this forever.

“I ate too much pizza,” Phil whispers.

Dan laughs, pulling his chin in and tilting his head down to press a kiss to Phil’s arm. “Let me up,” he says. “I’ll go put it away.”

Phil makes a little whiny grumble in protest but drops his arms to let Dan up. Dan crawls to the end of the bed and picks up the box. He closes the lid and climbs off the bed and looks at Phil. “You’re staying here tonight, yeah?”

Phil nods.

“You should get naked-er while I put this away, then.”

When he comes back he’s pleased to see Phil sat on top of the duvet in just his pants. “Better.”

Phil slips his legs under the covers then, like he’d just been displaying himself until Dan could see. He holds it up and opens his arms and legs for Dan to sit between again. Dan goes happily, revelling in the warmth of his back against Phil’s bare chest. He drops his head back against Phil’s shoulder as Phil pulls the blanket up over their legs.

“What are we doing?” Dan murmurs.

“What d’you wanna do?”

“You,” Dan says without missing a beat.

Phil leans down and presses a kiss to Dan’s neck. “Besides that.”

Dan thinks about it for a moment, and when he pushes his desire for Phil to the side he finds there actually is something else he wants quite badly as well.

“I want to see more of your videos.”

Phil is quiet.

“Sorry,” Dan says. “We don’t have to.”

“I’m just… scared,” Phil murmurs.

“Why? I won’t laugh.”

“I don’t care about that. I mean, you can laugh. You’re supposed to. It’s supposed to be entertaining. I just… It’s like what I said before. Once people know about all this shit they look at me differently.”

“But I already know.”

“Yeah,” Phil concedes. “I guess you’re right.”

“I just want to know you,” Dan says quietly, and it surprises him. It’s a complete one eighty from where he’d been not long ago, from wanting Phil’s body and not to think about anything else.

“Maybe I can help you, y’know?” he adds quickly, not wanting to linger on that weighty confession. “Help you figure out how to feel good about it again or something.”

Phil leans sideways and retrieves Dan’s laptop from its hiding place again. He puts it on Dan’s lap and wraps his arms around Dan’s middle. “You choose.”

“You sure?”

He feels Phil nodding behind him.

“Shall we just marathon AmazingPhil from the beginning?” Dan asks.

“Oh god. Alright,” Phil says, pressing his forehead in between Dan’s shoulder blades. “Prepare for a load of cringe.”

Dan finds Phil’s channel and sets it up to play from oldest to newest. His finger hovers over the trackpad, ready to press play.

“Phil?”

“Hm?”

“Am I just being a pushy bastard? We don’t have to do this if you don’t--”

Phil reaches around him and presses play. “I have to stop being so afraid of everything,” Phil whispers over the sound of his own younger, much more accented voice coming from the computer. “That’s part of my problem.”

“Just tell me if you want to stop,” Dan says.

Phil is wonderful. This is the conclusion Dan is quickly coming to as he leans his weight back into him and watches a younger version on the screen. Wonderfully weird, wonderfully random, wonderfully creative. His energy just bursts out from these old videos and Dan can feel himself getting pulled in even deeper. He finds it painful actually, finds himself wishing he could have met Phil all these years ago.

The early videos are short and rather chaotic. Sometimes he’d act out bizarre little skits, with disjointed editing, quirky characters and appropriately unsettling music. Other times he’d just be sat in front of a camera, talking about his day. It’s always interesting, though. It feels like watching someone who loves what he does.

He’s also hot, Dan can’t help noticing. Really hot, with his long black hair and giant blue eyes.

“I would have been so in love with you if I’d watched you back then,” Dan murmurs. Hearing it back after he’s said it, he wants to fucking kick himself but Phil just laughs.

“You had a thing for awkward lonely emos?”

“I had a thing for _hot_ lonely emos,” Dan corrects. “Still do.”

“Hey.” Phil gives Dan’s shoulder a little bite. “I’m not emo anymore.”

Dan sighs happily. He’s too easy. It should take more than a hint of teeth on his skin to get his blood flowing, surely. “Don’t start anything you’re not gonna finish, mate.”

Phil presses a hand flat against Dan’s stomach and slides it up, over his chest and up to the base of his throat. He bites into Dan’s shoulder again, a little harder this time. “I’ll finish it…” he whispers. “Just not right now.”

“I think I figured it out,” Dan says.

“Figured what out?”

“Your kink.”

“Oh?” Phil asks.

“You’re a sadist.”

Phil chuckles, dropping his hand from its loose cradled grip on Dan’s throat. “Maybe just when it comes to you. It’s so easy to wind you up.”

“Lucky for me I’m a masochist,” Dan says. “Just for you.”

He turns his attention back to the laptop, but he’s not as focused after that. He’s thinking about Phil’s mouth, because it keeps brushing against his neck and ear and shoulder. He’s thinking about Phil’s fingers, because they’re tracing gentle circles on his chest.

He knows Phil’s doing this on purpose, so he tries harder, tries to watch Phil’s videos and tries not to moan as Phil’s thumb drags over his nipple. He manages it, but only by biting down hard on his bottom lip.

He makes it through a couple more videos before he cracks, letting out a quiet groan when Phil starts kissing his neck.

“Now you’re just torturing me.” He arches his neck, giving Phil more space to work his magic mouth.

“Mhm,” Phil hums against Dan’s sensitive skin.

Dan pushes himself back against Phil’s crotch and gets a tiny sense of satisfaction at the hardness he feels against the small of his back. It’s reassuring to know he’s not the only one, but it’s starting to feel too much, this anticipation. He just wants Phil so goddamn badly.

“Phil, please.”

Dan feels Phil’s silent breathy laugh against his neck. “What?” he asks, feigning ignorance. “You want something?”

Dan takes Phil’s hand and presses it overtop of his pants to his painfully hard cock. Phil curls his fingers around the shape of it and squeezes.

Dan’s forgotten completely about Phil’s videos. The laptop falls off his legs and he barely even notices.

“Do it, Phil, fuck. Please.”

Phil laughs again, but he doesn’t make Dan wait any longer. He slides his hand inside Dan’s underwear and wraps his hand around his dick and the relief is overwhelming.

He doesn’t pull Dan out or push his pants down, he just goes to work jerking him inside the material and there’s something strangely, ridiculously hot about it to Dan, watching the shape and movement of Phil’s fist sliding up and down. There’s something about feeling Phil’s palm and fingers squeezing and tugging at his leaking cock but not being able to _really_ see it that sets him off.

He’s louder than he usually is, his moans pitched high as he tilts his head back against the sharpness of Phil’s collarbone. It’s not going to take long at all, not tonight.

Phil’s other hand wanders Dan’s chest and up his neck until it finds Dan’s bottom lip, thumb tracing the slightly chapped skin. Phil twists his wrist in a particularly intoxicating way and Dan’s lips part, sucking two of Phil’s fingers into his mouth just for a distraction from how bloody close he is to release already.

It doesn’t work, but he sucks anyway, swirling his tongue against the tips of Phil’s fingers.

“God, Dan. Your mouth.”

That and Phil’s thumb swiping over the head of his cock is all it takes for Dan to spurt hot and thick, against his pants and all over Phil’s hand and down onto his balls. The feeling is electric and travels over his whole body-- he can feel it in his toes and his teeth and the tips of his fingers and it seems to go on forever. He bites down on Phil’s fingers and watches the dark spot of wetness spread across the front of his briefs.

It takes longer than normal to come down, to remember to breathe and unsink his teeth from Phil’s flesh. Phil kisses his shoulder and doesn’t pull his hand from Dan’s ruined underwear until Dan’s legs have stopped twitching.

“What did you do to me?” Dan asks weakly.

“I think the real question is, are you going to do it to me too?”

Dan smiles, twisting his head to the side to look into Phil’s eyes. “Pull it out and let’s see.”

 

The lights are off and the window is open, Dan watching headlights travel over the wall and listening to the sounds of London at night.

Listening to the breathing of the man sleeping next to him.

The faint taste of Phil still lingers on his tongue, their bodies pressed together and tangled up in a way that no longer feels like a choice. It feels natural, like it was always meant to be this way and Dan’s been a fool for ever trying to fight it.

He’s going to stop fighting it. He’s going to let it happen the way it wants to happen and hope that it doesn’t leave him chewed up and spit out on the other side.

He still feels like he’s floundering, mostly. He’s still lost. And he doesn’t really know what it means but he stands by what Phil had said earlier. They’re going to be lost together.


	14. Chapter 14

Phil’s already awake when Dan yawns and stretches his arms above his head and opens his eyes. He’s awake and sat up a little against his pillow and looking down at Dan with sleepy eyes and a crooked smile. 

“Morning gorgeous,” he says warmly, brushing a curl from Dan’s forehead. 

“Morning,” Dan mumbles, pushing his face into his pillow to hide his embarrassingly wide grin.

They decide to venture out. Dan’s cupboards are bare and he still has no milk for coffee. Phil says they could go to his but all he’s got is instant and Dan has to draw the line somewhere. 

After they’ve hopped into the shower together and Dan’s convinced Phil that handjobs don’t count as shower sex, Dan lends Phil some clothes and they walk the few blocks it takes to get to the closest Starbucks. They take their drinks out onto the patio and sip them as they watch the people on the pavement walking by.

“You look good in my clothes,” Dan says, after Phil catches him staring. “You should wear more black.”

Phil smiles, looking down at himself. “Goes against my branding.”

“Does it?” Dan asks.

Phil nods. “This too.” He gestures to the fringe he’s got pushed back off his face. 

“What’s your branding? Like, explain what that actually means to me because I still don’t really get it.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen any of the newer videos.”

“Well can I?”

Phil shrugs. “If you must.”

“I must, so I can tell you that you’re being too hard on yourself and that they’re good.”

Phil smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and Dan can tell he’s back to being uncomfortable about the topic.

“Is it like, the shirt you lent me that time? The horrid yellow one with Charmander on it? Is that your branding?” He knows he should probably just shut up, but apparently he can’t.

“Horrid? How dare you.” Phil looks down into his coffee. “But yeah.”

Dan leans back in his chair and crosses his ankle over his knee. He sips his cappuccino, not taking his eyes from Phil’s once he looks up again. 

“Maybe,” Dan says cautiously after a few minutes of contemplative silence, “that’s all the more reason to change it up. Maybe you should wear black, or like whatever,  _ because _ it’s not your branding.”

Now Phil leans back in his chair and crosses his leg. His pale knee pokes out of the rip in Dan’s jeans and Dan wishes he was sat close enough to touch that bit of exposed skin.

“I mean, unless you genuinely don’t like wearing black.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Sorry, I’ll shut up now.”

“No,” Phil says softly. “It’s ok. I’m just thinking.”

Dan waits a few moments before he asks, “What are you thinking?”

“Thinking you’re probably right, in a way. Like, I should stop trying to make sure everything is ‘on brand,’” he air quotes, or tries to anyway. He uses too many fingers and ends up looking like he’s squeezing a couple of invisible stress balls or something.

Dan suppresses the urge to laugh at how cute that is, because he knows Phil’s having some sort of moment of epiphany. He nods. “Like, you said you want it to feel more like you, yeah? Less fake?”

Phil nods. “Just have to figure out what that actually means.”

“Do you… did you think about the liveshow thing?” Dan asks.

Phil nods again. “Been thinking about it a lot.”

“Is that a polite way of telling me to fuck off?”

Phil’s tongue pokes out as he grins. “Course not. I think like…” He pushes his glasses up from where they’ve slid halfway down his nose. “I want to. I’d like to do that. I’m just, you know…”

“Scared,” Dan finishes.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Phil sighs. “It’d just be so different, because I never have other people in my liveshows. People would freak and like, I don’t necessarily want to expose you any more than I already have.”

“Why would they freak?” Dan asks.

“Because they basically already caught us out-- like there are photos and everything. You saw.”

Dan nods, trying not to take the words  _ caught out _ to heart, as if they’d done something terrible.

“And then if I brought you on the stream, like… I just can’t even imagine the comments. And you’ll be able to see them. And some of them might be terrible and you may hate it and then it’d be too late because they’d know your face and your name and I just--”

“Phil.”

Phil crosses his arms over his chest, not defiantly, but protectively, like he needs support and he’s the only one there who can actually give it. “What?”

“I already told you I don’t care about that shit.”

“Yeah but… you don’t get it.”

“Look, it’s fine. I reckon I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place anyway. I just want to help, I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

“I know,” Phil says weakly. 

“I just don’t want you to be lost alone anymore,” Dan says softly. “Remember?”

Phil’s smile is radiant. It hurts Dan’s chest to look at it.

“So I think… I think you should tell them who I am, Phil, even if you don’t want to introduce me. If we’re…” he gestures his hand in the air in the space between them. “You know, whatever… that’d be a good first step, don’t you reckon? To being more you?”

“What would I tell them?” The vulnerability cracks Phil’s voice a little on the last word. “What would I… call you.”

“I reckon Dan works,” Dan teases.

Phil frowns. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. You can tell them whatever you want, Phil. My mum already knows we’re fucking, what do I care if some strangers know it, too?”

Phil chokes on the coffee he’s in the middle of sipping. “What? She does?”

“Yeah, course. I mean, she saw me pulling you into my flat, you know. She’s not stupid.”

Phil’s face has gone a bit red and he’s clearly embarrassed.

“It’s fine, Phil.” Dan can’t help laughing, though somewhere deep down there’s a sadness stirring for how uncomfortable Phil seems to be about his sexuality. 

Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe he’s just a private person in all aspects of his life. Maybe it has nothing to do with not wanting people to know he’s sleeping with a man and everything to do with just not wanting people to know who he sleeps with at all. 

“If you want people to think we’re just mates, that’s cool,” Dan says. “But it’s not  _ really _ the truth, is it?”

Phil’s face gets very serious then. “It’s not. It’s not at all.”

“And truth is what you’re looking for, isn’t it?”

Phil nods wordlessly. He looks scared and Dan has the sudden realization that he’s pushing  _ way _ too hard. Just because he’s been out for years, just because it’d never been that big a deal to him doesn’t mean it’s the same way for Phil.

“I mean, obviously like-- fuck.” Dan digs his fingers into his eyes. “Shit. I’m not trying to say you need to come out. Although, I guess that kind of is what I was-- fuck. Sorry, Phil. God.”

“It’s ok. I know you’re just trying to help. And like… you’re probably right. That’s probably a big part of the problem at this point. Maybe it’s why I’m scared to go outside and meet new people and like, let people into my life. I’m always just worrying about how it will look to the fans.” He rolls his eyes. “God that makes me sound like a pretentious asshole.”

“It doesn’t,” Dan assures. “But can I ask you something?”

Phil nods.

“Do you  _ want _ to tell them?”

Phil turns his head to the side then, turns to look toward the street. He’s quiet, thinking, chewing absentmindedly on his bottom lip. When he finally looks back at Dan his brows are knit together, a crease deep set between them. “I don’t want to  _ tell _ them. I don’t really care if they know or not, I just… I just don’t want them to always be  _ asking. _ I’m not-- like I’m not a person who makes statements. That’s never been me.”

“How did you come out to your family?”

Phil chuckles. “I didn’t. When I met my first boyfriend or whatever, like I had him round all the time and I didn’t say anything but eventually I guess my mum figured it out. She cornered me one day at breakfast and just asked me straight out.”

“Shit,” Dan murmurs. 

“Yeah. It was kind of awful in the moment because like, Martyn and my dad were there too and… yeah. It sucked. But in retrospect I’m kind of glad? Because I never had to sit them down and tell them. I don’t know if I could’ve even done that.”

“You could’ve, Phil,” Dan says softly. “I’m sure you could.”

“Maybe. I don’t want to do that now, though.”

Dan nods. “So just… let them ask. They’re going to ask anyway, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And you can decide which questions you want to answer, yeah?”

Phil nods.

“So maybe if they ask, next time you could decide if you want to keep ignoring it or like… maybe answer one.”

“And you’re really ok with… all of this?” Phil asks incredulously. 

“Yep.” He tries to sound as casual as he possibly can. 

“Maybe after America?”

Dan smiles. “Whatever you want.”

“I might have to get drunk first,” Phil says.

“Mm, better not do that. You might end up telling them how great I am at giving head or something,” Dan teases. 

Phil’s mouth drops open like he’s going to protest, but he snaps it shut after a moment. “God damnit. I probably would. You are very good at that.”

“I mean, if you want your branding to be more personal…”

Phil flips him off, but he’s laughing. 

“By the way, who’s Martyn?” Dan asks, once he’s stopped giggling. He figures it’s time to give Phil a break from grilling him about the future of his online identity.

“My brother. My very straight, athletic, musically-gifted non-socially awkward brother.”

“Ah,” Dan says knowingly. “So, no resentment issues there at all.”

“Not anymore actually. Sorry, old habits die hard I guess. I mean I’ll always secretly be jealous, but he’s a good guy. He and his girlfriend are actually pretty much the only people I see on a consistent basis anymore.”

“They live here?” Dan asks.

Phil nods. “Hard to build up cred as a DJ in Rawtenstall.”

“He’s a DJ? I need to meet this guy, he sounds cool.”

Phil pouts. “Shut up, Howell.”

Dan presses his palm to his chest. “Aw, you remembered.”

“Of course I did. I’d been wondering about that for ages.”

“You could’ve just asked, you spoon.”

Phil shrugs. “You’re not exactly, you know… forthcoming about things.”

That pulls Dan up short. He knows right away it’s true, he hasn’t been forthcoming about much of anything with Phil, and it hasn’t been an accident. But the tone of Phil’s voice says he’s not necessarily happy about it, which is something Dan hadn’t really considered. 

“Oh,” Dan says. He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Sorry,” Phil mumbles. “I’m sure you have your reasons.”

“I do,” Dan says quietly. He does, and though things feel different now, those reasons haven’t  _ really _ changed. He’s still mostly broken inside. “It’s not personal.”

“Sure,” Phil says, giving Dan a smile that’s probably supposed to be reassuring. He looks back out toward the road after that, pulling one of his legs up to his chest and resting his heel against the edge of the chair. His knee sticks out the hole in the jeans even more, the ripped black threads stretching out across his skin.

Dan’s gut burns with the wish that he could be different, that he could be the kind of person who could just do what was good for him. The kind of person who could make decisions because they’re the right ones, not because they’re the ones that help him avoid facing up to past mistakes.

“I have a brother too,” he blurts, because he has to say something.

“Yeah?”

Dan nods.

“Older?”

“Younger. A real pain in the ass.”

Phil smiles. “I’m sure Martyn would say the same thing about me.”

“Well he wouldn’t exactly be wrong, would he?” Dan smirks. He expects Phil to tell him to bugger off or maybe flip him the bird again.

Phil does neither of those things. He takes a sip of his coffee and stares at Dan over the rim of his cup with a cocked brow. He sets his mug down deliberately, glancing around them quickly before murmuring, “I’ll be something in your ass, but it won’t be pain.”

Dan hates how easy he is, how instantly Phil’s words heat his cheeks and tug at something low in his stomach. 

He picks up his mug and chugs the rest of his coffee. “Remind me when we’re done here that I need to stop into Boots quickly.”

 

They end up spending half the day sat on that patio, taking turns buying each other drinks and overpriced pastries, and just— talking. 

They talk so much. Mostly just about superficial things, things Dan doesn’t have to think twice about sharing. They talk about music and tv and movies and books. They talk about their brothers and their experiences at university and their celebrity crushes. Dan tries not to take it to heart that Phil seems to have a thing for muscular blonds. 

They people-watch shamelessly, making up names and stories about anyone particularly eye-catching. According to Phil a good portion of the people heading to work or running errands today are at least partially robot. Dan argues that actually, most of them are probably closet furries.

Not one of those robots or furries seems to recognize Phil, not even the teenage ones. No one stops and asks Phil for a selfie, though he and Dan sat out in front of a busy Starbucks together for hours. Maybe Phil had been right, maybe black clothes and a quiffed fringe really  _ do _ go against his branding. Maybe breaking free of an image he’s outgrown really is a bigger deal than Dan had previously considered. 

“Your hair looks good like that,” Dan says after Phil’s returned from buying them each a cake pop. 

“You think?”

Dan nods. “You have a wonderful forehead.”

Phil smiles, touching the tips of his fingers to that exposed skin self-consciously. “Shut up.”

“King of brilliant, shining foreheads.”

“Oi.”

Dan laughs. “I’m actually serious. You really suit it.” He doesn’t want Phil to think it’s a joke. 

“Thanks,” Phil says quietly. “I think I like it like this too.”

“Baby steps?” Dan asks gently, hoping Phil will understand what he means.

Phil nods. “Yeah. I think… I think I can do that.”

Dan feels an overwhelming surge of fondness, a burning need to reach out and feel Phil’s body against his in some capacity. 

He can’t do that, and he knows it. They’re very much in public. But Phil is looking down at his lap with a shy smile on his face and it’s so endearing that Dan can’t help himself. 

He sticks his leg out and hooks his ankle around Phil’s, watching Phil’s face carefully for any sign that he’s crossed a line.

That sign never comes. All Dan gets is a flash of crinkled bright blue eyes and Phil’s foot rubbing up against his calf. 

They’re quiet for a while after that, eating their balls of cake and playing footsie under the table before they go back to sharing stories and hypothesizing about strangers. 

Every time they hear a siren wailing in the distance they take turns guessing what kind of crime has been committed.

At least Dan does. Phil mostly just thinks it’s a busy day for the midwives in London.

 

They go back to Phil’s when they’re over caffeinated to the point of jitteriness and Phil’s arms are starting to look a little too pink under the mid-June sun. Dan forgets about Boots and Phil forgets to remind him.

Because Dan’s not thinking about sex. He’s thinking about how funny Phil is and how much they have in common and how much he’s going to miss Phil when he leaves for America. 

“When are you leaving?” he asks, settling himself down into the corner of Phil’s sofa. He stretches his legs out across the cushions so that Phil has no choice but to pick them up and lay Dan’s feet in his lap. 

“Couple days.”

Dan hates that. He’s grown all too used to spending his days with Phil. 

Phil’s put on a film, something they’d discovered earlier they both like. Something innocuous enough that neither of them will be upset about ignoring it later if it should come to that.

At some point Phil goes from simply holding Dan’s foot in his hand to squeezing it a little, digging his thumb into the arch of the sole and rubbing circles through Dan’s sock.

Dan looks at Phil, who’s still watching the movie, massaging Dan’s foot as if not even aware he’s doing it. As if his instinctual reaction to having any part of Dan’s body in his grasp is to treat it with care, to make it feel good. 

And it does feel good. Dan’s head is laid back against the armrest of the sofa and he’s given up on watching the movie. He’s just watching Phil now. Watching the light from the television changing colour on Phil’s face and the muscles in his forearm flexing as he kneads Dan’s foot. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he murmurs, unable to contain the emotion welling within him.

Phil turns his head. “Really?”

Dan nods. “It’s gonna suck here without you.”

Phil shifts then, moving so his body is angled toward Dan’s. His thumb has stopped kneading but Dan’s foot is still gripped gently in his fist. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go. Or that I could just bring you with me.”

“I’m pretty bendy, I could probably fit in your suitcase,” Dan says.

Phil smiles. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

“Are you gonna be super busy?” Dan asks. It’s not quite the question he wants to ask, but he’s not ready to expose just how vulnerable he feels right now. He’s not ready for Phil to know what he really wants to ask.  

Phil sees right through him. “I’ll be busy, but I’ll also have plenty of down time.” He slides his hand up onto Dan’s shin. “I already told you, Dan, I’m not going to forget about you.”

“Will you text me?”

Phil answers by not answering. He gives Dan a soft look of incredulity and says, “Come here,” his voice gentle and deep. 

Dan sits up and Phil pulls him right into his lap, pulling at Dan’s legs until Dan gets the hint and wraps them around Phil’s waist. His hands cup Dan’s jaw, stroking his thumbs against Dan’s cheekbones.

“When I say I’m not going to forget about you, what I really mean is that I’m going to be thinking about you the entire time. So yeah, I’m gonna text you. I’m gonna text you so much you’ll wish you’d never given me your number.”

Dan leans down and kisses him so he doesn’t have time to say anything stupid, because this is too much. It’s way too much and it’s too fast and he can practically feel the wind in his hair he’s falling so damn hard. 

It’s too much and Dan wants it— and more.

Phil’s hands move down, down to slip under Dan’s shirt and drag fingers over naked skin. Dan bites down on Phil’s lip, pulls it away from the gums gently before letting go again.

He leans back a little before he gets lost. He just… he just wants to look for a minute. He wants to study the face of this strange and glorious creature who’s starting to accomplish what Dan had previously assumed was impossible. Phil is starting to make Dan think he could really do this again, and maybe it could be different this time.

Maybe it would be worth it, though. Maybe Phil is worth it even if it  _ isn’t _ different this time. 

Dan’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he jumps. He gives a breathy chuckle, smiling sheepishly at Phil.

Phil doesn’t smile. In fact Phil’s smile has turned into something else, into a subtle frown and some expression that Dan can’t name. Concern maybe. Pity

“Why do you always do that?” he asks softly.

“Do what?”

Phil’s frown deepens. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

Dan’s heart thuds, for a different reason now than it had a moment ago. “Noticed what?” He knows. He knows what Phil’s talking about and he hates that he’s noticed. He hates that he’s given Phil anything to notice and that he’s going to continue to pretend he has no idea what Phil’s on about.

“You think I haven’t noticed that you flinch every time your phone goes off?” He says it gently, quietly, and Dan knows he’s trying hard not to make it sound like an accusation.

But he still can’t help the prickle those words elicit, the instinctual drive to deny. “I don’t.”

Phil’s forehead smoothes out, his frown vanishing, leaving behind a stoic passivity that somehow makes Dan’s gut clench even tighter. 

“Right,” Phil says. “You don’t.” He pulls his hands out from beneath Dan’s shirt.

Dan closes his eyes. He takes a slow breath, lets it fill his lungs and push aside the anger that’s beginning to form. He can’t. He can’t let this happen. 

He thinks back to earlier, back to Phil’s casual assertion that Dan is not forthcoming. It must be bothering him even more than Dan had allowed himself to recognize in that moment.

“I told you,” he whispers finally, opening his eyes and locking them with Phil’s. “There are things I just… can’t talk about.”

“Can’t?” Phil asks. “Or won’t?”

“There’s— there’s nothing to say. I’m trying to…” He takes another breath. “Trying to move on. Leave it behind. Be… happy.”

Now Phil’s eyes look sad. “Is it working?”

Dan tries to smile. “It is when I’m with you.”

“So is that what this is?” Phil asks, putting his hands on Dan’s thighs, squeezing against the black denim. “I’m just a plaster?”

“No, that’s not— it’s not like that.”

Phil shrugs. “It’s fine if it is. I’d just like to know.” He looks away then, and Dan knows he’s lying. It’s not fine.

He grabs Phil’s face and tilts it up so he’s looking at Dan again. “It’s not like that.” 

He doesn’t give Phil a chance to respond. He kisses him, hard, and could cry with relief when Phil kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and pulling him tight to his chest. 

His tongue is in Phil’s mouth and his arms wrapped around the back of Phil’s neck when his phone goes off again.

He could swear he doesn’t flinch this time, but Phil pulls back and says, “Maybe you should just check it.”

Dan doesn’t want to check. He wants to lose himself completely in Phil’s mouth and Phil’s hands and the feeling of Phil’s body underneath him, but he still works his hand into the pocket of his skin-tight jeans and fishes out his phone.

“It’s probably my mum,” he mutters.

He presses the home button and sees he has two messages. 

His stomach drops. They’re not from his mum. 


	15. Chapter 15

All it takes is seeing her name. He hasn’t even read the messages yet and he feels an emptiness settling into his chest. His fingers tremble where they hold his phone.

“Dan.”

Dan’s eyes snap up. Phil’s looking at him with concern. Dan wonders if Phil’s seen the name on Dan’s phone too.

Then he remembers that name means nothing to Phil. He shoves his phone back into his pocket without reading the messages, takes a shaky breath after realizing it’s been a while since he’s done that.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to read them?”

Dan just shakes his head. He tries to think of some way he could possibly salvage the situation now. Is there any conceivable way he could possibly shrug this off and just— not? Not have to feel this stabbing kind of reminder of how broken he is?

Probably not. His heart is pounding and his head feels foggy.

“It’s what you’re always worried about, isn’t it?” Phil asks quietly. “It’s why you’re sad.”

Dan’s not rational right now. He knows that. He’s not reacting to things in a way that makes sense anymore, which is why he can’t temper his immediate reaction to Phil’s words, which is indignation.

“Can we drop it?” he says bluntly.

He doesn’t miss the wounded look that flits over Phil’s face.  

“Ok,” Phil says. There’s a tone there, something Dan doesn’t like, and he’s too fucked up inside to do what he should do and ignore it.

“What?” he says, a touch more severe even than he’d been going for.

“All I said was ok. I’m agreeing with you,” Phil says. “We’ll drop it.”

Dan unhooks his ankles from around Phil’s back and pushes his hand against Phil’s chest as he climbs up off his lap. He scoots to the opposite end of the sofa and pulls his knees up to his chest. He stares at the television and the film that’s continued to play throughout all of this, hoping Phil will somehow read his mind and take pity and leave him alone for a while while he gathers his thoughts.

He doesn’t want to fuck up this perfect day. He doesn’t want to run away-- though part of him does. A little part of him is aching to run home to his own empty flat and read the messages and crawl into his pathetic mattress on the floor and just properly fall apart.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks. He’s not a mind reader after all.

“I’m watching Spirited Away.”

“Dan.”

Dan doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. Inside his mouth he’s biting down hard on his tongue. He needs the physical pain to chase away the thing that’s so much worse— the emotional sting of seeing her name on his phone again, mixed with a swirling guilt that he’s probably hurting Phil now too.

“Dan.” Softer now, conciliatory. He shuffles down the sofa to sit a little closer to Dan. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dan mumbles. His replaces his tongue with the nail of his thumb, still not bringing himself to look at Phil’s face.

“You said you don’t want to talk about it and I shouldn’t be trying to push you,” Phil says. “I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Dan replies automatically. Somehow that feels even worse, Phil’s patience and understanding, his willingness to give Dan what he needs, even if what he needs is to be a selfish cunt.

“You’re right anyway,” he adds quickly. “It’s what I’m always worried about.”

His head throbs in the silence that follows. The silence loaded with things Phil probably wants to ask and Dan prays he won’t.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Phil’s voice is so soft and kind and gentle that Dan actually considers it. He’s genuinely sat there considering telling Phil the whole stupid thing.

Instead he shakes his head. He tries to take a deep breath with making it obvious.

Because he knows he’s being fucking ridiculous. He should be over it by now, or at least more so than this.

He’s still staring at the telly when he feels Phil’s hand on his thigh. It’s gentle and warm, not a hint of intent or suggestion there, just a pure offering of comfort.

He picks Phil’s hand up off his leg and loops it around the back of his own neck, leaning his weight into Phil’s chest. He drapes his legs over Phil’s lap and tucks his head up under Phil’s chin and allows himself to be held, not unlike a child.

Phil just strokes his hair and kisses his temple and whispers, “You’re ok. It’s ok.”

Dan’s not sure. He’s not sure he’s ok and he doesn’t even understand it anymore.

She doesn’t want to be with him. She’d made that perfectly clear. And he knows in his heart that he’s not over the loss of her yet. He’s not over the loss of the life he’d thought they’d been building.

But it’s different now too. Phil has made it different, and even now as Dan’s heart thumps painfully for the reminder of her, he knows it doesn’t belong to her anymore. His heart is his own and he wants to share it with Phil.

He _is_ sharing it with Phil, as shitty a job as he’s doing at the moment. Phil is the person Dan wants to share it with, and she has no claim to it anymore.

He just needs to find a way to make his body understand that as well as the rational part of his brain does.

“I’m sorry, Phil,” he whispers.

“Don’t. You don’t need to be.”

“Well I am.”

“What are you sorry for? What have you done?”

“I— I’m just a fucking mess and you deserve better.”

“I don’t want better,” Phil murmurs. “I just want you.”

Dan could cry. Actually, he thinks he probably will, and soon. He can feel the heat behind his eyes, the tightness in his throat. “You say that now.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well what about later, when you don’t?”

Phil pulls on Dan’s shoulder, turns his own head and tries to push Dan away enough to look at his face. “Dan, what—”

Dan doesn’t let him. “What am I supposed to do when you change your mind and you don’t want me anymore?”

“I’m not going—”

Suddenly Dan throws his legs off Phil’s lap and stands up. He knows he needs to be alone before he does or says anything else he’s going to regret. “I’m sorry, Phil. I have to go.”

“You don’t,” Phil says. “We can talk.”

Dan shakes his head. “I can’t right now. I have to go.”

Phil wraps his arms around his chest and Dan has to look away. Phil’s still wearing his shirt and his ripped jeans and it’s too much for Dan to look at him like that because he looks like everything Dan wants and it's not helping.

Dan’s got his hand on the doorknob when he hears Phil’s voice again, quiet and small and sure to haunt Dan’s thoughts until he can fix this.

If he can fix it.

“Will you come back?”

Dan turns to look one more time before he leaves. He’s never hated himself more.

“I hope so.”

 

He’s going to fix it. He tells himself he has to fix it, and maybe even as soon as tomorrow morning. Even as fucked up as he is right now he knows he needs to fix it.

He just… He needs to be alone right now. He needs to read her messages and sort himself out and he doesn’t want to fall apart in front of Phil anymore than he already as. He needs to find a way for it not to feel like this anymore.

He closes his door behind him and leans back against it, swiping open on the texts before he has time to change his mind.

_obviously you don’t want to talk to me and i respect that, and if you ignore me this time i’ll understand. i won’t keep bothering you danny, i promise. but i’m going to be in london for a couple days next week and i’d really like to see you. and talk._

_please just think about it. i want us to be able to remember the good times when we think about each other and not just the way it ended._

He climbs straight into bed, clothes and all and lets all the bad shit wash over him— the way she looked the last time he saw her, the watery track marks of mascara running down her cheeks and the finality in her voice when she’d said _I’m done._

He feels that emptiness again, that maybe not so rational feeling that an essential part of his makeup is gone and he’ll never get it back. That he’ll always just be half a person living the wrong life.

He lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling and waits, but the tears don’t come. They don’t come for her anymore. Maybe eyes can only cry so many tears for a person before they realize the futility of it.

His phone is still is his hand when it buzzes again. He doesn’t flinch. He has nothing left to fear.

Curiosity gets the better of him after a few minutes and he brings it up to his face to look.

It’s not the right name. It’s Phil’s name.

_just tell me you’re alright and i’ll leave you alone_

He thinks for a moment and then types out a two letter reply.

_ok_

It’s not for Phil. It’s for her.

The next message he types is for Phil.

_don’t give up on me_

The answer is immediate. _never_

Now he cries. Now the tears flow freely. His eyes still have plenty of tears to cry for Phil.

This will be the last time, though. He makes himself think it, over and over like a mantra. This will be the last time he gives himself reason to cry about Phil. This is the last time he’s going to make Phil wonder if Dan even cares about him at all.

He turns his phone off completely, something he never does, and shoves it under his pillow. He fishes his laptop out from from between the bed and the wall and opens up YouTube, going straight to Phil’s channel and finding the last video he remembers watching last night before getting distracted.

He presses play and puts the computer on the pillow next to him and just watches. It doesn’t even matter that Phil might not want him to do this. Dan’s decided to go all in on being selfish tonight and he just wants to hear Phil’s voice without having to worry about saying anything back.

He watches until his eyes are heavy and his chest is warm. Something about Phil’s voice and his playful presence in his videos makes Dan feel like a real person again. It chases away the dreadful emptiness and clears his mind of thoughts of himself and his own bullshit problems.

He falls asleep with AmazingPhil’s laugh in his ears and the hope that he’ll be able to hear the real thing again soon.

 

He wakes up feeling heavy and disoriented the next morning, his laptop slumped down off the pillow, screen black and battery dead. He slides his hand under his pillow and grabs his phone to check the time before he remembers he’d turned it off and he might have some things waiting for him he’s not super keen on.

He turns it back on anyway, because he has to work today and he needs to know what time it is.  

He’s strangely relieved to see he only has about an hour before he needs to be at the shop, and less relieved to see a number of texts waiting for him.

He opens hers first. Better to get the hard stuff out of the way first.

_fuck. i honestly didn’t expect that. wow. ok. thank you dan. i’ll ring you when i’m in town?_

_k,_ he texts back. It’s not lost on him how improbably perfect her timing is, coming into town at the same time Phil is leaving it.

His fingers are a little jittery but he’s pleased to find the aching pain of loss to be dulled so significantly that he barely feels it. Maybe he really can do this after all. Maybe it doesn’t have to be the insurmountable hardship he’s been fearing.

Next he opens Phil’s message.

_i don’t know if i’m allowed to say this right now but it feels really weird going to sleep without you_

_i don’t like it_

Dan grins down at his phone, trying to remind himself he’d vowed not to let himself cry over this man ever again. But maybe happy tears are an exception.

_me neither. in fact i hate it_

The three dots pop up before he’s even had a chance to close out of his messages.

_how are you feeling? did you sleep?_

_weird still,_ Dan types.

_but better thanks_

He thinks about sending one more text, one apologizing for being such a twat, but he sees the dots again and decides to wait.

_do i get to see you today?_

For about thirty seconds Dan genuinely considers calling in sick, but then he realizes he does actually have to earn at least a little bit of money every once in a while if he wants to continue making a home in London, even if his flat is as shit as this one.

 _gotta work :( after?_ Dan asks.

_martyn has a show tonight. im staying over at his and corn’s afterward_

_that’ll be fun,_ Dan says, though he definitely feels a twinge knowing he’ll have to go at least twenty four hours without seeing Phil, and all before he’s about to leave for much longer than that.

_what are you lot doing with corn though should i be concerned?_

_lol corn is cornelia, martyn’s gf,_ Phil texts.

Dan rolls over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and smiling down at his phone. He should really get up and get ready for work but even just talking to Phil like this is addictively easy and warm. _and here i was thinking you had some weird food kink you hadn’t told me about_

_i mean, i didn’t say i didn’t_

_noted,_ Dan types, chuckling to himself. _i have to get ready for work now :(_

_and i’m sorry about last night_

Dan chews on his lip as he watches the dots. They stop and start a few times and Dan’s gut churns nervously. He feels like he waits a long time, but he also knows his perception of time is probably pretty wonky right now.

The dots disappear. He waits for the message but it doesn’t come.

His phone starts ringing again.

“Hello,” Dan says, managing to sound breezy though he feels anything but.

“You should know that I absolutely freaking _hate_ making phone calls,” Phil says by way of hello. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Ok,” Dan says, as if that’s a perfectly normal way to greet someone. “This is me not getting the wrong idea.”

“You’re supposed to be getting ready for work.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m holding you up.”

Dan laughs. “You’re also being super fucking weird, Phil.”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound like he finds it as amusing as Dan does. “It’s just because I’m… I dunno I have a jumble of thoughts in my head and I don’t know which ones I should say and which ones I shouldn’t and… yeah. Shit. I shouldn’t have rung until I knew what I was gonna say. Sorry. I reckon you should go get ready for work.”

“You’re gonna leave me hanging like that?” Dan asks. “Just tell me what’s up.”

Phil sighs. “I just… I was trying to be chill. I wanted to be chill.”

Dan’s stomach drops. “What d’you mean?” he croaks.

“Just… I’m trying— I’ve _been_ trying to just be whatever you— to be fine with whatever you wanted.”

Dan doesn’t say anything, hoping Phil will explain, hoping Phil will say something that doesn’t make Dan feel like he’s fucked everything up.

“And I still am. But I think… I don’t know if you even know what that is.”

“Oh,” Dan says.

“Do you?”

“I…” he trails off. Does he? “I thought you weren’t giving up on me,” he whispers.

“I’m not,” Phil insists. “I’m not. I guess I’m just trying to tell you what _I_ want. Because you never really asked me that.”

Dan’s heart sinks. Phil’s right, he’d never asked what Phil wanted. He’s just a selfish bastard and he’d been right last night when he said Phil deserves better.

“And that’s alright,” Phil continues, bless him. “I know you’re going through something and me being needy is probably the last thing you need.”

“You’re not—”

“I’m not like, getting in between you and someone else, am I?” Phil blurts. “Like I’m not a home wrecker right now or something, am I?”

“No, Phil, jesus. No.”

“Ok good. Because I don’t think I’d be ok with that.”

“I wouldn’t either, Phil. I’m not that kind of person.”

“Good,” Phil murmurs. “Good.”

They’re both quiet after that. Dan’s mind is racing, when he realizes he still hasn’t asked Phil what he wants.

“So what _do_ you want, Phil?”

Phil sighs gently on the other end of the line and Dan wishes very badly that he could see his face. Maybe even reach out and take his hand.

“Right now I think… I think I want you to think about what _you_ want. Because… I like you, Dan.”

“I like you too,” Dan says immediately. He definitely doesn’t have to think about that.

“And that makes it harder when… when stuff like last night happens,” Phil says quietly. “It makes me question things I thought I knew. It’s all… this is all just so messy.”

Dan nods as if Phil can see him. “Yeah,” he agrees sadly. “It is.”

“And it’s confusing. And I don’t want to scare you away, but also—”

“I get it, Phil,” Dan interrupts. “You want someone who has their shit together.”

“No,” Phil says, and his voice is firm. “That’s not it. You don’t have to have your shit together. For fuck’s sake, _I_ don’t have my shit together. I guess I just want to know what your shit actually is.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mean like— you don’t have to tell me like details of everything. Or anything. I just. I want to know you and I want to know that we’re on the same page and that you’re not going to just disappear at any given time.”

“I won’t,” Dan says weakly, not because he doesn’t mean it, but because it’s all just so much. The last few days have been a rollercoaster and he’s starting to feel sick from being emotionally jerked in every direction.

And it’s not Phil’s fault, but unfortunately he’s the one who seems to be suffering the consequences.

“I reckon maybe we should kind of… use the next week to think,” Phil says and he sounds nervous. “Maybe just like, starting from right now and we can both just… think about what we want.”

“Oh,” Dan says again. He’s saying that too much, but he hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t been expecting Phil to hit him with the classic _we need some time apart_ line. “Ok.”

“I don’t really mean that the way it sounds,” Phil says. “Really I just want you to think without the distraction of…”

“You,” Dan finishes.

“Basically.”

“You said you’d text me,” Dan says somewhat petulantly.

Phil sighs. “I will. I’m not just saying ‘fuck you, I’m out.’ I’m just…”

“What, Phil? Just what?”

“Nothing. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’ll let you go to work now. We can text each other if you still want to and hopefully you’ll still want to see me when I get back in a week. Bye Dan.”

Dan opens his mouth to speak but Phil’s already hung up.

 

Dan is more than a little late for work. His boss doesn’t care, probably hadn’t even noticed. In fact as soon as Dan’s stepped foot in the empty shop he asks, “Mind if I go grab a coffee?”

She says she doesn’t mind as long as he gets one for her too.

He doesn’t go to Starbucks. He walks an extra five minutes to the nearest Costa, so he doesn’t have to remember eating cake pops with Phil on the Starbucks patio.

It doesn’t work. He still remembers. He remembers and he wants to kick himself for letting a couple of texts from a ghost ruin something that could have been good.

Something that _is_ good, he tells himself. It’s still good. Phil’s still there. Phil is waiting. All Dan has to do is pull his heart out of the past and into the present. She is a spirit haunting his memories and Phil is a living breathing man who wants to be everything Dan needs.

He hasn’t said so in as many words but Dan’s not stupid. Not _that_ stupid anyway. He knows Phil cares about him.

 

Phil doesn’t text him once all day. It’s dark when Dan gets off work, and by the time he’s stepping off the lift onto the eighteenth floor he’s rather desperate to turn the knob to Phil’s door and not his own.

He’s about to do it. He’s about to be weak and give in to the desire to fall into Phil when he remembers that Phil’s not there. He’s probably on his way to some loud dark club.

He’s probably wearing something nice, something that makes his blue eyes pop and accentuates the broadness of his shoulders. Maybe his hair is quiffed back nice and high and he’s wearing some musky cologne.

Some dark possessive part of Dan’s brain hopes he’s still wearing Dan’s ripped jeans.

An even darker, more twisted feeling of possessiveness stabs in his chest as he closes the door to his own flat behind him. Phil is a fucking gorgeous man and he might get drunk tonight in a club full of strangers. Someone might ask to buy him a drink. Someone might ask him to dance.

And Phil has no real reason to say no. Dan wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he sucked Phil’s neck hard enough to leave marks.

He hates himself for it instantly. Phil is not his to mark, he’s not a piece of meat to which Dan can lay claim.

But that doesn’t stop him hoping Phil’s got some proof on his body that he hasn’t been spending his nights alone.

 

Phil texts him at midnight. _i’m drubk_

_drubkk_

_DRUNK_

Dan’s insides are squirming. _i would have never guessed :)_

_it’s suuuper louf in here_

_i mean loud_

Dan doesn’t have a chance to respond before Phil texts him again.

_oh shoot i’m meant to be givinf you soace aren’t i_

_space grr my phons isn’t doing what i tell it_

Dan’s laughing, watching the butchered texts roll in with fond amusement. _it’s you that wants the space not me so you can text me whenever you want_

_i doont want space dAn i just want u to choose me over whooever keeos making yoU so sad_

_ps i give up on tryung to fix ma typoos_

Dan’s smile drops. A few drinks has clearly put Phil in an honest place. _there’s no choice to be made phil,_ he types and then quickly deletes.

 _i’ve already chosen you_ —Delete.

He doesn’t know how to say it. Should he even say it? Phil is drunk in a loud club in the middle of the night. Will he even remember this tomorrow? Will he look back at his texts tomorrow morning and feel embarrassed? Dan doesn’t want to take advantage of Phil’s vulnerability.

 _it’s not like that phil._ He quickly hits send.

Again Dan watches the dots stop and start. Every muscle in his body feels tense now.

_corny says o have to stop textinf now or shes going to shove my pHone in her bra_

Dan almost laughs, but he still feels unsettled. He really did balls things up last night. _ok have a good night buddy drink some water before you go to sleep_

Phil’s text back is simple but makes Dan’s heart flutter. _night night daan ily_

 

Dan falls asleep listening to Phil telling him why he was a weird kid.

 

He’s never been more grateful to have a long shift as he is the next day. It gives him an excuse not to agonize over Phil’s message from last night. The shop’s not busy though, and eventually he has to resort to actually reading a book to distract himself.

It’s possible he pulls his phone out and rereads the texts a few times.

It’s possible he has to read entire paragraphs over and over because he’s not really processing the words his eyes are scanning.

It’s possible he types out message after message only to quickly delete them before he can do something stupid like send them.

Again he almost cracks after he steps off the lift. Phil’s door is right there. His flat is _right_ there. He’s almost definitely home, which makes it a whole world harder to turn the handle on Dan’s own door. It feels wrong.

It feels like time wasted, time he could be spending kissing Phil’s face and hearing his voice and looking into eyes like the sea.

He goes home and has a shower and forces a wank though he’s not even particularly horny. He misses Phil’s body but he misses everything else more.

Usually a wank is good for clearing his head, at least for a little while, but not tonight. Tonight he’s restless and crawling out of his skin with regret.  

Eventually he cracks. _i know you’re trying to give me space so i’ll only text once just wanted to make sure you’re good and tell you i hope you have fun on your trip and eat lots of pancakes_

He doesn’t get a reply, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t hurt.

At this rate he’ll have watched every single one of Phil’s videos before Phil gets back.

 

Dan only has enough presence of mind through the heavy fog of sleep to acknowledge that something somewhere sounds like knocking. It’s faint and he can’t force his eyes open and for all he knows he’s just dreaming it anyway, so he throws his arm over his eyes and goes back to sleep.

He’s lying on his back. He takes note of this as he’s pulled earthside from unconsciousness by a weight settling itself on his hips.

He doesn’t have time to panic before there are fingers on his face and a soft voice in his ear.

He opens his eyes and Phil is right there, sitting on his lap and leaned down so their faces are nearly close enough to touch.

“You need to start locking your door,” he whispers.

Dan’s arms feel heavy, but he lifts them to wrap his hands around Phil’s hips. “But then I wouldn’t get to wake up like this.”

Phil smiles and closes the space between their lips, holding Dan’s face as they kiss.

When he pulls back it’s too soon, way too soon and Dan thinks he’d give anything if it meant Phil didn’t have to go.

“I have to go.”

“Don’t want you to,” Dan whispers.

“I don’t want to either, but I have to.” He rubs the pad of his thumb gently over Dan’s bottom lip. “But I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. I’m rubbish at space.”

Dan clings to Phil’s shirt as if he can stop him from leaving, or maybe just freeze time so they can stay here like this forever. “I fucking hate space.”

Phil smiles. He leans down for one more kiss and says, “Don’t get used to it, then, because I fucking hate it too. I’ll be back in a week.”

And then he’s gone.


	16. Chapter 16

He gets the call he’s been dreading sooner than expected. He sees her name on his vibrating phone and he’s not prepared. Not physically or emotionally or any of the ways he wanted to be when this happened.

He answers, because he knows he needs to do this. Not just for her —to appease her and perhaps convince her that he needs to be done with worrying that she’s going to keep ringing and texting and insinuating memories of herself into his new life— and not even just for himself, either. 

But for Phil. For Phil and the promise of new beginnings wrapped up in those soft fingers and black hair, in his gentleness and patience and understanding. Dan needs to do this because he owes himself the chance for a fresh start, and it’s clear he’ll never be able to do that without closure. 

It doesn’t hurt as much as last time, hearing her voice, hearing the way his own name sounds as it falls from her lips, a little bit husky and steeped in the weight of years and years of history. 

“Are you free?” she asks.

_ Never from you _ is his automatic thought, but he desperately wants it not to be true. If one conversation ever could change the course of a person’s life, of their whole perception of the future and their way of thinking, he hopes it’ll be this one. 

“Yeah,” he replies, his heart beating faster already. 

“Where d’you wanna do this?”

 

They meet in Hyde Park, at the Diana Memorial Fountain. There’s not a chance in hell Dan’s going to expose himself by letting her be witness to the sad emptiness of his flat. It’s a day not unlike the haze of heat and sun and running into Phil on the street all those weeks ago. Sweat glistens on his temples and clings to his hair, beads low on his back and makes him strangely nostalgic. The tacky skin and burning on the back of his neck as he listens to the rushing of the water behind him add to the dreamy feeling that none of this is real. 

It feels unreal, sitting on the edge of the oval fountain and watching the people walking here and there on the bright green of the grass that surrounds them, scanning the crowds of faces for the one that’s been clinging insistently to the fringes of his memory. 

Not just the fringes, but it’s not the only face that makes a home there now, and that gives Dan the strength not to drop his eyes and avoid seeking her out. 

He hears her before he sees her. She comes from the side, somehow from somewhere he hadn’t been looking and greets him quietly, cautiously, like she knows exactly how afraid he is— of this moment in particular, of seeing her again after so long.

“Dan?”

His stomach flutters and his heart jumps and he feels so tightly wound that he almost thinks could probably just— fly away. 

He turns toward her without consciously making the decision, his body still hard wired with the muscle memory to respond to the sound of her voice. 

“Liv.” His own voice is small.

Her hand is on his shoulder, the lightest of touches. 

He stands. She looks up into his face and oh— he’d forgotten. He’d forgotten what that’s like, having to look down to see eye to eye with the person he’s sharing a moment of intimacy with.

She’s tall, she doesn’t have to crane her neck, but she’s definitely shorter than Phil. She only has to tip up on her toes slightly to wrap her arms around the back of his neck and pull him into a hug. 

He doesn’t return the embrace. Not right away. He stands there stunned, smelling her body lotion and feeling her black hair tickle his face. She’d let it go curly today, let it take its natural shape. ‘The mane’ she always called it. 

The prettiest hair in the world, he’d always told her, and it’s still true. It still is. 

She squeezes tighter, pushing herself into him and he cracks, allowing his arms to wrap around her back. He pulls her in tighter, burying his face in that hair and, just for a moment, losing himself in the comforting familiarity of it. 

“Liv,” he murmurs again, maybe just to remind himself that it’s not a fantasy. She’s really here and he’s really holding her.

It’s familiar, but at the same time it’s different. Hugging her is so different from hugging Phil. 

Phil is taller. Phil smells sweet where she smells just a little spicy. Phil is broad and she is too, but in a different way. Her waist tapers and flares out again at the hips in a way that Phil’s does not. She’s somehow softer and all at once more solid than Phil, curved and fleshy and filled out where Phil is slender and flat. 

Dan lets go first but she doesn’t linger once he pulls his face from her curls.

They look at each other again and Dan has to work to remain stoic when he sees the extra shine in her eyes. He hadn’t been expecting that. 

He doesn’t actually know what he’d been expecting, but tears hadn’t been it. She doesn’t let them fall. She blinks, looks down at her feet a moment, clears her throat. When she looks up she’s got a sad sort of smile on her face, one Dan thinks she should know he sees right through.

She’s still beautiful, though to expect anything else would have been silly. She doesn’t have to do anything to be beautiful, it’s just effortless and it radiates from every inch of her golden brown skin. 

The freckles that dust her nose and cheeks are darker than last time he’d seen them and she’s got a silver ring in her septum and her bottom lip has little teeth marks in it and—

And he needs to stop staring. He’s not allowed to look at her like that anymore. 

“You look good,” she says.

“You’re a bad liar, Livvy,” he replies.

And now she smiles for real, giggles a little even, and that’s his favorite because it shows off her endearingly crooked teeth and brightens her dark eyes, chasing away any hint of the unhappiness that lingered there. 

“You do, though,” she insists, reaching up and fluffing her fingers in his hair. 

This should be agony, he thinks. This should hurt like hell, but all he feels is a dull ache and he doesn’t know what to do with that information. 

“D’you wanna sit?” he aks.

She shakes her head. “Let’s walk.”

 

Walking is good. It gives him an outlet for the nervous energy that courses through his limbs. It gives him somewhere else to look, landmarks to focus on that aren’t her lips or her long strong legs in their short red shorts or the fact that she’s wearing a long sleeved black shirt that’s too big, that doesn’t belong to her— that belongs to him. 

Maybe she’d forgotten. It’d always been one of her favourite shirts, and she probably ended up wearing it more than he did. She always liked how long the sleeves were, how it swallowed her up a little. She said it made her feel like Dan was with her even when he wasn’t, like he was always there giving her a hug as she went about her day. 

Today she’s got the sleeves rolled up and the hem tucked into the front of her shorts and he wonders if she does remember. He wonders if she remembers that it’s the hug jumper. 

“So,” she says, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“Yeah,” Dan replies when she doesn’t say anything else.

“Thanks for doing this.”

He’s already at a loss for words. He doesn’t even know how he feels right now, let alone what he wants to say to her. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He just shrugs his shoulders a little and hopes she knows how out of his element he feels. 

“I wanted to say, first of all— I’m really sorry. About your birthday. I shouldn’t have… That was shitty of me.”

“Oh,” Dan says. That’s all he fucking says. 

“I guess I thought maybe you wouldn’t be so angry anymore,” she says quietly. “I never meant to upset you.”

He can’t help the scoff that escapes his lips. 

“I’m not talking about— I mean, I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday. I really just— you didn’t actually mean what you said, did you?” she asks. 

“What did I say?”

“That I was just ringing because I felt guilty and I wanted you to make me feel better about that.”

“Oh.” He chances a look at her face. She’s looking right at him as they walk, a frown deep set between her brows. 

“I mean… I didn’t have to be that much of a dick about it, but… yeah,” he says. He feels strangely proud of himself, of how well he’s holding himself together. If this meeting had happened even just a few weeks ago he would’ve been a right fucking mess. 

She shakes her head. “You should know me better than that, Danny.”

And oh—  _ that _ hurts. 

“I thought I did,” he murmurs. “And then you—” he cuts himself off. 

“Yeah,” she says. “Well that’s why I’m here. You don’t get it, because you never let me talk.”

“You talked plenty, Liv. I didn’t want to hear it anymore.”

“You weren’t  _ listening. _ You were just hearing what you wanted to hear.”

“Trust me, I definitely didn’t fucking want to hear that.”

She stops walking. “Hey.” She puts her hand on his arm, stops him too, pulls him so he’s facing her. “Let’s not— please. Let’s not do it like this. I didn’t come here to fight.” 

What can he say? What can he possibly say right now. 

“Please,” she says softly, her eyes welling again. “I was just as sad and fucked up about it as you were.”

“Was?” Dan asks. “Were?”

She swipes quickly at her eyes. He wonders if she’d purposely chosen not to wear makeup today for that reason. He wonders if she knew she was going to be crying today. 

That thought shakes loose the anger tightening in his chest. He’s spent the majority of his adult life up to this point loving this woman. He owes it to the both of them now to hear her out, to grow the fuck up and be honest and listen to what she has to say. 

“Sorry,” he says, swiping his thumb across the wetness on her cheek. “I guess I’m still pretty angry. But I don’t want to be anymore.”

She nods. “And I don’t want to worry about you.”

“You don’t have to, either way. It’s not like I’m… you know. I still see a therapist and take my meds and stuff, like I’m not—”

“Oh god, Dan, oh no.” She looks horrified. “That’s not what I’m— I don’t mean worry like  _ that. _ ”

“Well what then?”

She sighs, closing her eyes and tangling her fingers anxiously into the mane. When she opens them again she fixes them on his. “I think I need a drink.”

 

This was a good idea, he thinks. Drinking is good when you’re nervous. Drinking is good for coaxing out truths you’re trying to keep hidden. 

Well maybe not  _ good, _ but effective anyway. 

She holds up her shot glass. “Cheers,” she says. He clinks his glass against hers and they throw back their first shot— rum, the cheapest available at the first pub they’d come across after leaving the park. 

They’re not drinking for pleasure. They’re drinking to get drunk. She orders them another two rounds and then looks at him. 

“You still a lightweight, Danny?” 

“I never was,” he says defensively. His head already feels floaty.

She smiles. “So yes, then.” She orders them each a pint and they carry them over to a booth in the back. 

He doesn’t have the presence of mind to stop himself staring at her legs as he follows her to their table. It’s not even that he’s objectifying, he’s just— he’s just looking. It feels surreal that he even gets the opportunity to look at her again. He never thought he would, and he thinks after this he won’t again.

He just wants to remember, for as long as he can. He wants to catalogue everything, the way her hair sways as she walks and the tiny little white lines on her thighs where her skin had stretched to accommodate the fuller figure of adulthood. If he never gets to look at her again he wants to remember as many little insignificant details as he can, because for better or worse she played a huge role in shaping him into whoever he is today. 

“So,” she says. “You sloshed yet, babes?”

“No,” he says somewhat petulantly. 

He definitely isn’t sober.

“So let’s do this, yeah?” she says, taking a long swig of her beer. “Let’s just rip this shitty plaster off and get it over with.” 

“Alright.”

“Do you want to start or should I?” she asks.

“You. Definitely you.”

“You’ll let me talk this time. You’ll listen.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but he knows what she’s doing is asking all the same.

Dan nods. “Fine.”

He expects her to launch into a tirade of his faults, a list of reasons why she’d up and decided one day that their life wasn’t the one she wanted anymore, but she doesn’t. She’s quiet, tracing her finger against the condensation on the outside of her glass, leaving a swirling trail in the moisture. 

She’s got paint under her fingernails, as she always does. Today it’s red, and maybe some yellow as well. Probably underneath her shirt there’s more, streaked across her stomach, little flecks splattered and dried against her chest. She said it never felt right to paint fully clothed. How could her work be honest and naked if she wasn’t?

She’d given up long ago trying to scrub away the proof of early mornings or late nights in her little studio. Dan came to know the scent and taste of it well over the years. 

“I don’t know where to start,” she says quietly, shaking him from the kind of memories that would pull him back to a place of feeling like he could never ever get over her. 

He doesn’t think it’s true anymore. He knows he can get over her, knows he’s already started that journey, but seeing her like this— it’s a lot. It’s a rush of things he’d been trying to repress and now they’re staring him in the face again with their eyes so dark brown they might as well be black. 

“You could tell me why you’re in London,” Dan suggests.

She smiles that smile he loves again, the one with the teeth and the warmth. “I think… I think I found a gallery. Well I found someone  _ with _ a gallery.” 

Dan raises his eyebrows. “To exhibit you? Here?”

She smiles, looks down at her hands and gives a coy little shrug. “We’ll see. Haven’t had the meeting yet, but it looks good.”

His heart swells with pride as if no time had passed between now and that horrible day. He beams. “Wow. Olivia Luna, you’re actually doing it.”

“We’ll see,” she says again, but she looks happier than he can ever remember seeing her.

“That’s amazing, Liv. I’m so proud of you.”

Her smile fades then. “That’s not why we’re here, though.”

“Oh,” he says, heart rate spiking. “Right.”

“I love you, Dan.”

His heart stops. “What?”

“I don’t want you to think I ever stopped loving you. I’m going to love you til the day I die.”

He buries his face in his hands. It’s too much. He thought he could do this. Well, he didn’t really, but he thought he could try.

“Liv, what the fuck,” he mutters. “Why are you doing this to me.”

“I just needed you to know, and that’s what I mean when I say I worry. And why I wanted you to let me explain.”

He stares at her blankly. His head doesn’t feel floaty anymore, it just feels heavy and he wants to cry. “Because you love me.”

“Yes. Because I care about you and what happens to you and… I care about what happens next time.”

“Next time?” he asks, a touch of anger in his voice now. “Next time what?”

“Next time you fall in love.”

He shakes his head, takes a hold of his pint and tips it back, draining half of it in one go. He doesn’t doubt he’ll regret that later but it feels like the right thing to do in the moment. He welcomes the rush it gives him— anything to distract him from this. From her.

He looks at her. “You left me,” he says quietly. “You woke up one day out of the blue and decided you were done, I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.”

“No.”

“You didn’t want me anymore. Just— it was so sudden.”

“That’s not what happened, Dan.”

“It is.”

“It’s  _ not. _ ” Her voice goes hard and it startles him into shutting up. She has a deep voice as it is, but when she’s pissed off, well— she’s not afraid to let him have it. “You said you would listen.”

“I am—”

“No, you’re not. So shut up and listen.”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest but he doesn’t say anything. 

“I didn’t wake up one day out of the blue and decide I was done.”

“You literally said the words ‘I’m done.’”

She glares at him. “I needed you to fucking listen. I needed you to pay attention.”

“I was always listening to you! I was always paying attention to you! You were fucking everything to me!” He’s not  _ quite _ shouting but he’s pretty damn close.

Her eyes go cold. “Exactly.”

He throws his hands up in pure frustration. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you weren’t even your own person by the end. You weren’t living your own life, you were just hiding in mine.”

That cuts him deep, in so many ways. “I thought it was  _ our _ life,” he nearly whispers.

“I’m sorry Dan.” She reaches out and puts her hand on his arm. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

“Well tell me what you mean. Tell me, because I don’t fucking get it.”

She cocks her head to the side a little. “Don’t you?”

He does. He absolutely does, and he’s absolutely not ready to admit it yet. He shakes his head.

“You had no drive, no ambition, no hobbies, no friends.”

He chuckles. “I still don’t. Only now I don’t have you, either.”

“You don’t want me,” she says softly. “I’m not good for you.”

That stabbing sensation again. He has a whole lifetime’s worth of memories that beg to differ. Happy memories, memories of being happy.

“You weren’t happy,” she says, as if she can read his mind.

“You made me happy,” he says weakly. 

She shakes her head. “I made you distracted. I distracted you from how unhappy you were.”

He frowns. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

Her whole expression changes into a sad kind of soft. “No,” she says gently. “It’s not the same.”

“I loved you,” he whispers.

“I’m not saying you didn’t. And I’m not saying I didn’t love you. I’m not saying I  _ don’t  _ love you. But that doesn’t mean we were right for each other.”

He’s quiet, looking down into his beer and trying not to admit to himself that she’s right.

Of course she is. She always is. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” she asks. 

He nods. He had done exactly what she’s saying, used her as an escape from the painful reality that he was lost and afraid and unwilling to really lean into that uncertainty and find out who he really was— what would make him happy,  _ truly _ happy. 

He thinks she could have been a part of that happy. Maybe if they’d met later, or if his life had somehow gone differently. If he’d chosen philosophy over law, if he didn’t harbour so much anger and resentment for his father, if he’d started therapy earlier. The problem isn’t her, it was never her. 

It’s him. It’s all his own shit. 

“I tried to talk to you so many times,” she says eventually. “We didn’t make each other better. We didn’t know how to make each other better.” Her voice is soft like she expects a fight. He’s not going to give her one. 

“I know,” he whispers. “I think I know that now.”

“You left before I could explain,” she says.

“I’m sorry.” He takes her hand in his, strokes his thumb over her knuckles. Her hands are smaller than Phil’s and not as soft. They’re an artists hands, steady, sure of themselves. 

Phil’s hands aren’t like that at all. Phil’s hands shake. Phil’s hands never do what he seems to think they’re doing. He can’t even make air quotes. 

Dan smiles, thinking of Phil’s hands when he’s holding Liv’s. He thinks surely that means something. Surely that means some kind of closure. 

“I met someone,” Dan says.

“What, really?”

He nods. 

“Fuck,” she murmurs, shaking her head. “I… I was not expecting that.”

Dan shrugs. “Wasn’t planning it.”

“What’s her name?” she asks. Dan doesn’t miss the sadness buried in the nonchalance. 

Dan waits until she’s looking at him to smirk a little and say, “Phil.”

She laughs a pretty little laugh, all warmth and affection. “Really?”

He nods again. 

“You like him?”

“I think— I think I do. I think I really do.”

“I’m happy for you, Danny. And now I’m even happier we got to talk.”

He smiles and they enjoy a stretch of quiet time, no doubt both thinking, processing the end of their relationship and the acceptance that it was the right thing in the end, that two people can love each other and not be right for each other. 

“Dan?”

“Hm?”

“Make sure you love yourself, ok? That’s what I mean when I say I worry. I mean I worry you’ll let yourself fall into the same patterns.” 

She looks at him intently, and he knows this is likely his last chance to really look back. Soon enough this face, this hair and these lips and these eyes will live only in his memories, and though he knows in his heart that’s the right thing, it still breaks it just a little. 

“Make sure you make your own happiness a priority. Whatever that means, as long as it doesn’t mean making someone else more important than yourself, yeah? Don’t try to make yourself into what other people want from you. You’re a good man. You deserve to be happy, for real.”

He nods. He still doesn’t know what that means, really. He doesn’t know exactly who he is or what will make him feel the kind of happiness she’s talking about.

But he knows who he’d like to ask to help him find his way there.

“Hey,” he says, after chugging back the rest of his now disgusting lukewarm beer. “You know that’s my shirt, right?”

“Oh I know.” She grins. “It’s mine now though.”


	17. Chapter 17

They part ways soon after. She says she’s got somewhere to be, and maybe she does. Dan’s not sure it would matter either way. It’s been a rollercoaster of an afternoon and there isn’t enough time or distance yet to say with any degree of certainty whether or not they can be friends. The wounds are stitched but it’s going to take time for them to heal.

They hug lingeringly outside the pub, and it hurts. Despite the sense of closure Dan feels now, the sound of that door closing for good on the last five years of his life reverberates inside his head as he watches her walk away.

He feels a little off balance as he makes his way home. A weight has been lifted from his shoulders and he thinks probably hers too, but it’s been replaced by a different one. He doesn’t feel broken anymore, he just feels— sad.

He cries when he gets home. He runs himself a lukewarm shower and cries as he washes away the sweat of the day.

It’s still relatively early and he has a lot of time to kill before he can find refuge in sleep, so he decides to make a real effort not to wallow. He resolves to keep himself busy. He strips his sheets and takes them down to the wash because it’s been too long since he’s done that.

He’s also thrown in the clothes Phil had left the last time he’d been here, the clothes Dan had left sitting in a little heap next to his bed for days because he liked the reminder of watching Phil pull them off.

He sits on top of the machine as it spins his laundry clean, wishing he didn’t have to wait for it, but then realizing it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t actually have anything better to do anyway. He pulls his cracked phone from his pocket and clicks the home button. No calls, no messages. He hasn’t spoken to Phil since he left.

He wants to, badly. Instead he opens up his contacts and clicks on his mum’s name. He hasn’t memorized her number, and he wonders as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line if that makes him a bad son.

“What’s happened?” she asks, by way of hello.

“What? Nothing. Hello to you too.”

“I’m at work, Daniel.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He pulls the phone from his ear and checks the time. “Mum it’s like seven o’clock, why are you still at work?”

“Is it really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, damn,” she says. “I had no idea. I guess I should go home.”

Dan doesn’t say anything right away. He’s waiting. He can hear her flipping through papers in the background and he thinks she may have even forgotten that he’s still there.

“Or you could talk to me,” he says eventually, quietly, picking at a loose thread on his sock.

The shuffling noises stop. “Seriously Dan, what’s happened?”

His teeth are working their way across his bottom lip, seeking to bite into every inch of his chapped skin, desperate for distraction from how awkward this is. Awkward but it feels so entirely necessary to him and he’s not even sure why. Maybe just because there’s absolutely no one else he can talk to about this.

“I saw Liv today.”

“What?”

Dan takes a weird kind of satisfaction at the shock in her tone. “Yeah, she’s in London for a few days.”

“You’re not— you know… getting back…?”

“No. We’re not.”

“Oh.” She pauses, probably hoping Dan will say something else. When he doesn’t she says, “And… how was that?”

“Weird,” he says, and his voice comes out garbled. He clears his throat. “Kind of… sad.”

“Are you alright?”

Is he? That’s a good question. “I dunno. I think so?”

“You seem alright. Better than—” She cuts herself off. Whatever she was about to say, it honestly doesn’t matter. It’d all be true. He’s holding it together better than he would have thought possible.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I guess it was good. Closure and stuff, I dunno.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” She sounds like she means it and Dan feels it in his guts. He kind of wishes she were here right now and he could bury his face in her shoulder and have her stroke his hair or something.

“I still feel like… weird.”

It takes a while for her to respond to that, which isn’t surprising. This is really an unprecedented level of vulnerability on his part. She’s probably not even recovered from the fact that he called her in the first place, let alone that he’s confiding in her about seeing his ex-girlfriend and feeling strange about it.

“It’s going to take time,” she says gently. “Maybe more than you’d like. You two were together a long time.”

“Yeah,” Dan says quietly.

“It won’t always feel like this. And closure is good. A lot of people never get that.”

“I know.”

“I’m so happy you rang me. I’m… proud. I’m proud of you, love.”

Dan feels a little constriction in his throat. “Thanks,” he rasps.

“You’re going to be alright.”

He clears his throat again, swallowing over the tension there until he doesn’t feel on the precipice of tears. “Yeah.”

“What about… Phil?” Her voice tilts up at the end like she’s asking if that’s actually the correct name.

“Yeah, Phil,” Dan says. “What about him?”

“Is that not still happening?”

“Mum.”

“What? I’m just curious, as I’ve apparently got you in the mood for honesty.”

“I’m going to hang up on you now.”

“Come on, love, tell me about him. Talk to your dear old mum. Distract me from falling back into work so I don’t end up sitting at my desk til after the sun goes down.”

“You have a problem,” Dan says. “Go home, mum.”

“I will, as soon as you tell me about your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well your fuck buddy, then.”

“Mum!”

“Go on,” she says, indifferent to his mortification.

He sighs. “Are you getting up from your desk and walking out?”

“Yes. Absolutely I am. This is me, walking away from my desk. Listen.”

He does, and he can hear her heels clicking against the floor.

“So tell me about Phil,” says.

“I’m only going to talk about this as long as it takes you to get to your car,” he grumbles.

“Fine,” she agrees.

“He’s… I dunno. We’re… friends.”

“And?”

He sighs again, louder this time so she knows he’s annoyed. “And… he’s great.”

“That’s great.”

“And I probably already fu— messed it up.”

“How’d you manage that?”

He sighs. Again. He’s doing a lot of sighing tonight. Why did he let her rope him into talking about this? He needs some friends, probably, so he has options beyond his mother when he has the burning need to talk about ex-girlfriends and current boy-whatevers.

“I dunno, mum. I just did, because I always do and it sucks.”

She clicks her tongue. “So you _want_ him to be your boyfriend.”

Dan hears the beep of his mum’s car door unlocking. He’s within the parameters of their deal to hang up now and save himself discussing this any further.

He doesn’t of course, because the fact still remains that he’s lonely and Phil’s not here and Dan’s not sure he’s even allowed to be missing him.

“No,” he says, pulling one of his legs up and resting his chin on his knee. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“So yes then,” she says.

“I don’t know, mum. It’s more complicated than that. I… like him. I like him a lot, but like… maybe it’s too soon.”

“Maybe it is.”

“But he’s away right now and like. I miss him.”

“Mhm,” she hums like she has to work not to interrupt the flow of his thoughts too much.

“But he basically told me I have to figure my shit out.”

“What shit?” she asks.

“Like, the Liv shit.”

“Ah. Well then. You told him about Liv?”

“Uhh.” He switches his phone to the other ear. The sounds of the machines are just loud enough that putting her on speaker is not an option. “No, actually. I didn’t. He just knows I’m like, a mess right now.”

“And he told you you need to figure that out if you want to continue spending time with him?” She sounds like she doesn’t buy it.

Which is fair, as Phil definitely hadn’t said that. Not at all.

“No, I guess he didn’t,” Dan admits. “I think he’s just scared I’ll go mad and disappear on him.”

She takes a few moments to respond. “It sounds like he likes you too.”

“Maybe,” Dan mumbles. He’s smiling now though, because she’s right, and it’s just nice to be reminded of that. Phil likes him. And he likes Phil. It’s not what he’d set out to talk to her about when he’d rung, but here they are, and it just makes Dan want to hear Phil’s voice again.

“Are you going to go mad and disappear on him, love?”

“No.” He thinks he can say that now. Today kind of feels like it’s changed everything.

“Have you told him that?” she asks gently.

He’s moved on to working the inside of his cheek with his molars now.

She makes it sound so simple, as if any of this is as easy as just telling people how he feels. “Um. Maybe not like… maybe not exactly.”

“Well. Maybe you should.”

“But— like… I don’t want to do this again, mum.”

“Do what?” she asks.

“Hurt.” His voice is so quiet he half hopes she hasn’t heard it over the hum of the washing machine.

“That’s just life, Dan.”

He huffs a laugh. “I guess. So are you telling me to just say fuck it, do whatever the hell and don’t even think about the consequences?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. All I’m saying is that pain is unavoidable.”

“Right.” It’s not exactly the kind of reassurance he was looking for.

“Look, I could tell you a lot of clichés right now about how life is too short to spend it living in fear, but ultimately that’s up to you to decide. I can’t decide for you if Phil is worth that risk.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. Maybe she’s not saying those things, but… she kind of is. And she’s probably right. Is it really better to live with the pain of regretting not allowing yourself something good than the pain of _losing_ something good? Don’t they really just amount to the same thing?

“You don’t have to profess your undying love and eternal devotion, you know,” she says. “You could just tell him you like him. You could tell him you’re not going to disappear. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe it doesn’t. “Yeah,” is all he can bring himself to say.

“I have to hang up and drive home now, love.”

“Ok.”

“You can ring me again later if you need to.”

“Ok. Thanks mum.” He’s honestly bewildered by how much he doesn’t want her to hang up.

“I love you, Dan.”

“Yeah. Love you too.”

He waits to hang up until the ring tone is all he hears. He opens his messages and types up a text for Phil. He sends it quickly and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

_fuck space_

 

Phil texts back a few hours later. _do you mean it_

_yeah. definitely_

Dan waits but it’s nearly forty minutes before Phil replies. When he does it’s with a link and an instruction. _open this on your laptop if you can_

He moves from where he’s sat on the window ledge watching the lights outside and walks over to his bed. After he’s crawled under the covers and and opened up imessage on his laptop, he stares at the link, his heart beating a little faster with the nerves and an overwhelming curiosity. He can see that it says younow, but he has no idea what that means.

 _i’m scared,_ he texts before he can bring himself to open the link.

_don’t be! you’re gonna laugh. i’m the one who’s scared_

_you know that just makes me even more nervous, right?_ Dan asks.

_just click it howell. i’m waiting for you. tell me when you’ve done it_

Dan cracks a little smile at his screen. _you’re waiting for me?_

_yup_

Dan takes a deep breath, sure he’s being ridiculous, but when has that ever stopped him from building things up too much in his own head? _ok i’m doing it_

At first there’s nothing, just a load of numbers and words and little thumbnails of things he doesn’t have time to make sense of before suddenly Phil’s face appears, filling up the screen with a bright AmazingPhil smile. Dan’s watched enough videos at this point to recognize the AmazingPhil smile.

“Am I live?” Phil asks squinting at the screen. “Hello! Welcome to my liveshow. Thanks for coming.”

He’s looking right into his camera, or webcam more likely judging from the quality, and it feels to Dan like he’s talking directly to him.

“If you’re watching this back on YouTube you can listen to it like a podcast while you wash your dishes or something. Like a friend keeping you company while you do your washing up. Anyway, welcome to the show, I’m gonna tweet it, I always forget to tweet it… tweeting, tweeting…”

Dan’s eyes are rapt to this version of Phil on his screen. It’s almost bizarre. It’s not Phil, his Phil, the gentle, soft spoken one who cracks weird jokes out of nowhere and always thinks before he speaks, but it’s also not the chipper, almost robotic version of Phil Dan’s seen in the most recent videos.

He’s somewhere in between today. There’s a curious mix of persona and intimacy here like this, watching Phil live but still with a screen and almost nine thousand kilometres between them. It’s him, but it’s still not _really_ him.

Phil starts greeting people with strange usernames and mentions something about top fans. Dan has no idea what’s happening but it’s ok, because he’s finally looking at Phil again after too many days of missing that black hair and those blue eyes. He’s finally hearing that lovely deep voice again.

He looks good today, if not entirely like himself, or at least the version of himself he’s allowed Dan to see. His hair is arranged across his forehead into a fringe again. It’s immaculate, nary a gap in sight but Phil’s hand still comes up to fiddle with it at least a few times every minute. He’s wearing a dark blue jumper with a rainbow coloured bird on the front and he looks like he’s sat on a bed.

At that moment Dan notices the comments scrolling down the bottom of the screen. They’re going so fast he can’t even really make out what they say, but apparently Phil can because he starts reading them out and answering them.

“‘Where are you?’ I am in America! Land of the pancakes.” He leans to the side to show off more of the room behind him. “I’m in my hotel room right now.”

He leans back over and squints a little bit at the screen again. “‘Aren’t you at VidCon, Phil, why aren’t you partying right now?’” He chuckles. “Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you guys.”

Dan would _swear_ that was meant just for him. He’d swear Phil was actually looking directly into his eyes.

“‘But you just did a liveshow less than a week ago, didn’t you?’” He makes a face of playful annoyance at the camera. “Are ya complaining, mate? This is premium content right here, lads. When was the last time I did an international liveshow?”

He carries on like that for a while, just reading out questions from the chat and answering them, frankly in the most generic and superficial ways he can. Dan can see what Phil means when he says it all feels fake. He’s not seeing a lot of the Phil he knows in this man. Phil is laughing and smiling and clearly trying to put on an air of ease, but Dan knows him well enough now that he can see through it. He can see how stiff Phil is, how closely he’s guarding himself.

“‘Have you had any IHOP yet, Phil?’ Yes! I have! Just the other day I was telling D-- my friend--”

Dan tunes back into the conversation then, pulling himself from his own inner monologue about identity and transparency. Phil is talking about him, technically. In front of thousands of people, technically.

“I was telling my friend the other day about IHOP, and they said they’ve _never had it._ ” He scrunches up his nose, drawing out his words for dramatic effect. “I told him about cupcake pancakes and he said he prefers savoury breakfast and--” he cuts himself off, smiling sheepishly, and Dan thinks it’s the first truly honest thing he’s said or done so far. It makes warmth bloom in Dan’s chest.

“Anyway, long story short, I had cupcake pancakes this morning for breakfast and,” he points at the screen, “You. You know who you are. They were better than any sausage could ever dream of being, sir.”

Dan snorts. He wonders if Phil even realizes what that sounded like and knows right away he can’t let Phil get away with it. He has to tease him at least a little bit.

 _better than any sausage?_ Dan types _even mine? ;)_ He doesn’t think much of sending the text off, assuming Phil won’t be looking at it til way later anyway.

His heart jumps when he sees Phil look away from the screen and down into his lap. It’s brief, but he does it, and when he looks back up he’s clearly trying to suppress a smirk and his cheeks are just a little bit pinker.

Phil clears his throat and fiddles with his fringe and just generally looks flustered, which might explain why he reads out what he reads out next. “‘What was that Phil, is someone texting you?’” He giggles. “I mean, you can’t exactly ignore texts from your mum, can you? Kath gets worried when I’m in another country.” He’s grinning widely and Dan thinks he’s probably fooled all of about two people.

“Let’s look at some premium messages,” he blurts cheerfully. “Jess says, ‘Phil! It’s been ages since your last video.’ Yeah, if you’ve not seen my last video, it’s on AmazingPhil, I did a day in the life at the London Zoo, so that was fun. Lots of good stuff there, I got to feed a giraffe. Their tongues are so long, you guys oh my gosh. They’re also, like, black, which was quite a surprise. Apparently that protects them from the sun. So yeah, that was basically like holding a really slimy snake in my hand. Quite gross, but also… very interesting.”

He keeps on like that for a while, just talking about the zoo and all the things Dan had filmed him doing. It doesn’t escape Dan’s attention that Phil hadn’t exactly addressed what Jess, whoever they are, had said in their premium message, whatever that means. He hadn’t said anything about the fact that he hasn’t posted a new video in ages, he’d just used it as a prompt to talk up his latest video.

Dan feels a wave of sympathy wash over him knowing Phil had tried to film a video and simply couldn’t do it. Knowing he’s just putting on a brave face for these people when really he feels like everything to do with his videos is so complicated and unsure at the moment.   

“‘Did you hire a cameraman for that video?’” Phil’s eyes flit to look to the side, off camera and Dan wonders if he’s reading messages he doesn’t want to answer because he’s flustered by a certain someone in his audience tonight. “Uh…”

Dan’s fingers fly as he types out a text for Phil. _you ok?_

Phil’s eyes drop down to his lap again, just for a second or two. He looks up and smiles right at Dan-- at least that’s what it feels like. “Yeah,” he says quietly, voice full of the warmth and depth that Dan’s been missing so much.

“Uh, I mean, no… not really. I had someone there helping me but it wasn’t like, a professional or anything. Just a… helpful friend.”

Suddenly Dan’s memory flashes back to the hardness of the tiled floor beneath his knees as he sucked Phil off in the aquarium toilets. Helpful indeed. He wants to send Phil another text that says as much. He wants to rile Phil up a little and see him blush, but he also doesn’t want to make this any harder for him than it already seems to be. That can’t have been what Phil wanted when he sent Dan the link to his show.

Phil is frowning at his screen. “Oh my gosh guys, don’t— you’re— all the comments are about— I’ve not hired an editor you guys. Or a camera person. It’s still just me. If I had people telling me what to do don’t you reckon I’d have put up a new video by now?”

Dan’s stomach twists. He knows Phil had been going for playful ribbing of his audience and maybe that’s how it had across to them, but he knows the truth. He knows Phil’s not really laughing about all this at all.

“I’ve just been super busy,” Phil says. “I haven’t forgotten about you.” His hand comes up and pushes his fringe against his forehead. Dan has a strong urge to touch him in this moment, just to put his hand on Phil’s knee and give his hand a squeeze. He looks so… lost.

He looks lost and he’s alone right now, which means Dan is breaking his promise. Logically he knows that’s silly, but his heart still aches all the same. They’re supposed to be lost together.

_hey it’s gonna be ok. we’re gonna figure it out_

Is that too cheesy? Too empty a platitude? Should he think a little before he sends these kinds of things? Will Phil be annoyed that Dan’s trying to insinuate he has anything to do with Phil’s channel and his process and all that?

Phil looks down. He keeps his face turned away from the camera for longer than any of the other times, like he’s given up on trying to be subtle now.

When he looks back up he’s smiling again, and it’s all Phil, nothing _Amazing_ about it. Just Phil, smiling at Dan.

“‘Having a nice chat with your mum Phil?’” He chuckles. “Yeah, I mean… she’s a good person. I miss her.”

Dan’s insides are doing that squirmy fluttery thing. The two people Phil might have managed to fool before will have definitely caught on now. In no universe is he talking about his mum with a smile like that. With his voice sounding _like that._

He clears his throat. “What were we talking about? Oh yeah, videos. You lot. Such needy lads. And ladies. And non gender specific humanoids. But yeah, I’m here in America, don’t you know what that means? I’ll give you a minute.”

The chat is scrolling fast still, faster than Dan thinks anyone should be able to understand but even he can see now what people are saying.

“Collabs!” Phil exclaims excitedly. “Yeah, gonna be filming lots of videos while I’m here, so keep your trousers on. I’ll be hitting you with that sweet content soon enough.”

And suddenly Dan feels that ache again. He knows how far from excited Phil is about filming collabs.

“‘Phil are you going to film with Cat? When will Phat be real?’” He laughs, so disingenuously that Dan thinks surely no one could be fooled by it. “Oh my _god_ guys that’s the _worst_ ship name ever. You all are really letting me down with that one, I’m still not over it. But I mean… I might be seeing Cat while I’m here. There might be a camera involved, who knows, who knows. You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” He winks.

He fucking _winks._

Dan bristles. He hates that he bristles. He doesn’t even know who the fuck Cat is, but apparently he really hates hearing Phil even jokingly hinting that there might be something there. The feeling of jealousy takes him by surprise with its insistence.

_cat better keep her hands to herself mate_

His heart pounds as he watches Phil drop his head. He’s already regretting it, already knows that was probably the stupidest thing he’s done in a while, which is really saying something, but he can’t even pretend like it didn’t feel good.

It feels even better seeing the smirk on Phil’s face when he looks back up.

“‘Oh em gee Phil are you talking to Cat right now?’ No! No I’m not, you crazy kids, oh my gosh. If you must know, shh listen ok, I’ll tell you a secret.” He leans in closer to his screen. “It’s not actually my mum.”

Dan’s heart pounds.

“‘Yeah no shit, Phil.’ Oi!” Phil’s hand flies up to cover his mouth. “Look what you made me say, oh my god. You lot. Such a bad influence. ‘Tell us who it is, Phil!’ Ok, ok. Are you ready? Can you handle it?”

Dan can feel his heart beating in his throat. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to hold it for a moment before breathing it out slowly. What does he even have to be nervous about right now? It makes no sense.

Phil leans in even closer so his face takes up the entire screen. His pupils are wide but the ring of blue around them is vibrant, even through the pixels of his webcam. “Shh, don’t tell anyone, but… it’s my friend.”

He’s not disappointed. He’s not. What else could he have possibly expected?

“‘Is it the same friend from those photos?’”

Now Dan’s heart stops, and it looks like Phil’s probably has too. There’s no way he’d meant to read that out.

This had all been a mistake and guilt burns in Dan’s chest. He shouldn’t have sent Phil any of those messages, shouldn’t have been distracting him like this. It’s unprofessional. He’s making things harder for Phil, which really is the last thing he would have wanted.

He wants to text him again though, right now. He wants to say something that’ll make it ok, but he can’t think of anything. He doesn’t know how to make this ok.

“Jesus Christ,” Phil mutters sternly. “You guys really know how to take everything just a little too far, don’t you?”

Then he laughs. He forces himself to give a little chuckle, forces a smile onto his face. “I’m joking. Kind of.”

 _say whatever you need to say,_ Dan types. _tell them it’s cat if you need to_

When Phil looks up from reading Dan’s message his smile looks a little more genuine. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s that friend. That friend who didn’t ask to be chased by pseudo paparazzi.”

Dan notices that the chat somehow starts scrolling even faster.

“Nope, nope sorry,” Phil says. “I’m not gonna say any more about him. Not right now.”

Not right now.

“Stop it!” Phil exclaims, but he’s smiling again and he sounds more playful than anything. “Seriously, guys. I’m not gonna talk about him. You’ll see soon enough.”

Dan stares at the screen wide-eyed.

“You’ll meet him soon. I’m not gonna tell you about him. He wants to introduce himself.”


	18. Chapter 18

Dan is still reeling when he shuts his laptop. All in all it had only been about half an hour, but that time had been packed full of so many emotions, for the both of them Dan thinks, but definitely for him. It’d honestly been hard to watch at times, but he already feels like he knows Phil a little better now. 

Maybe a lot better, actually.

The chat had gone insane after Phil told them they’d get to meet Dan at some point. Eventually he had to threaten to sign out to get them to shut up. The rest of the liveshow was spent answering questions about his trip, sharing anecdotes about awkward run ins with hotel receptionists and nearly being sick on the plane. Lots of recollections of various meals he’s had in America and how much more exciting food is on that side of the world. Nothing terribly revelatory, just fun and easy and relatable.

But Dan’s still replaying certain moments in his head when Phil says goodbye to the camera. Moments he could imagine he was feeling exactly what Phil was feeling, even though Phil was trying so hard not to let it show. 

Despite what they put him through— the invasive questions and the lurking behind corners with cameras ready to capture moments not meant for them— Dan could still see moments in that show where Phil was genuinely happy to share his time and his thoughts with these people. He supposes it’s not fair to think they’d all be as willing as those girls outside the pub that day to ask of Phil more than he’s willing to share. Many of them are surely lovely people. Many of them surely just want to see him happy. 

But Dan gets it now, at least more so than he did before. He understands Phil’s reticence to be open and personal and all the things he thinks he can’t be in front of his audience. Things he could be in the beginning, in those early videos heavily edited but with Phil’s heart and soul completely unfiltered. 

Dan gets it now. It’s more complicated than Phil just deciding he’s willing to be honest. It’s going to be a lot harder than that. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a buzz in his pocket. 

_ that was a lot, sorry. even more than i thought it’d be. i hope you don’t think i’m a freak now _

Of course. Of course Phil is worried about  _ Dan _ is feeling right now.

_ i’m fine phil. are YOU fine? _

_ i’m fine. i’m just sorry about… all of it i guess,  _ Phil texts.

_ i mean it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have been texting you like that _

_ you should have,  _ Phil says.  _ i liked it.  _

_ i can’t believe you told them i was your mum _

_ lol sorry. i knew they’d go mental if they knew it was you _

_ they don’t even know who i am,  _ Dan says.

_ they know what you look like. and that i had my arm around you one time. that’s all they need to know to get worked up. _

_ i’m sorry if i fucked things up for you. _

Dan’s phone buzzes the longer vibrations of an actual call then. He answers without saying hello.

“Don’t do that,” Phil says.

“Do what?”

“Apologize for doing things that I’m really glad you did.”

Dan shuffles down further under the covers until his head is laid back against his pillow. “It seemed like it just made things harder for you.”

“I didn’t have to tell you I was doing a show. I didn’t have to send you the link.” He pauses a moment. “I could have pretended you were Cat.”

“Who is Cat by the way?” Dan asks, hoping to sound as casual as possible.

Phil chuckles breathily. “I can’t tell if you’re actually jealous or just taking the piss.”

“Depends on your answer.”

Phil giggles again. “She’s just a friend. She does YouTube too. Been making videos almost as long as me.”

“Oh, cool.” He’s not jealous. He’s not. That would be stupid. He’s not going to feel weird about every name Phil speaks that isn’t his. 

It just— it’s making him wonder. It’s making him think about something he hadn’t really before. About what Phil does when he’s not with Dan. About who he might be spending time with in the space between their days and nights together. 

Phil has said more than once that he doesn’t really have friends in London. But you don’t have to be friends with someone to find physical companionship in them. 

And apparently he has friends in California. Maybe Cat is just a friend, but who’s to say there isn’t someone else waiting in the wings for a brief fling with a hot British boy. 

“A lot of my fans really love the idea of us being together,” Phil says. 

“That’s so strange,” Dan murmurs, his mind still half lost in thoughts of Phil with hands on his body. The wrong hands.

“Yeah, it is. What’s weirder is that some of them are actually convinced that we are.”

“Oh, really?” Dan asks. “Why’s that?”

“I dunno, mate. I think it’s just purely like, aesthetic? Like she’s pretty and I guess they think I’m pretty so it just makes sense to them that since we like each other enough to be friends that we should just be together.”

“Huh.”

“I’m guessing the Phat shipping is going to die down a bit now, though.”

“Why?”

Phil laughs. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I was smiling like an idiot at my phone and now they all know I was texting the gorgeous guy I was all over in a back alley?”

“It wasn’t a back alley,” Dan says, grinning. “And you were hardly all over me.”

“For me, that was huge,” Phil says. “People would have hardly been more shocked if my tongue had been down your throat.”

“So you’ve always been… private? With the fans I mean.”

“Yeah, I mean, definitely since people actually started watching my videos with any regularity, anyway. The fact that they seriously ship me with a woman goes to show how little they actually know about me.”

“Oh,” Dan says. “Do you not…?”

“Not since I was teenager. I don’t know if I like,  _ wouldn’t,  _ I just… haven’t. I dunno.” He sighs. “I guess it’s weird I’m thirty and I still haven’t even figured  _ that _ out yet.”

“It’s not weird,” Dan says softly. “Attraction is a weird thing. And it can be fluid.”

Phil makes a breathy sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “It’s funny, I don’t think I’d ever really worry about it if I didn’t see it so much in the comments.”

“See what?” 

“People like, debating my sexuality.”

“They do that? Really?” Dan asks, horrified. 

“Yeah, all the time. Like, that’s probably what I see more than anything else.”

“That’s fucked,” Dan mutters. “I would hate that so much.”

“It’s… it’s fine, really. I try not to let that stuff get to me and usually I do an alright job of it, but lately… well, you know. I’m just kind of a mess right now. I feel like I kind of don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“Phil…” Dan’s heart aches. He wishes he knew something to say to comfort him, but in all honesty he feels largely the same. “Lost together?” he asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Phil replies just as softly. “Yeah, please. If you’re still…”

“I meant what I said about fuck space. Fuck it. I hate space. I meant it when I said that too.”

“Me too,” Phil says. 

“Good. That’s good, because…” he trails off. A part of him wants to tell Phil everything. About Liv and their old life together and their meeting today and all of it. A big part of him wants to be as honest as Phil is being now. 

He thinks of what his mum had said earlier. He doesn’t have to confess undying love and eternal devotion. He’s not asking Phil to marry him or something, he just wants to tell a little bit of the truth for once. 

“Because what?” Phil asks. “Don’t leave me hanging here, mate.”

“You know that thing that happened the other night?” Dan asks. “And that stuff you said, about flinching when my phone goes off and wanting to know I’m not going to disappear and-- and wanting me to choose you over whoever keeps making me sad?”

“Christ, did I say that?”

“You may have been a little drunk at the time.”

“Sorry. Shit,” Phil mutters. 

“Don’t be. It was-- it was nice. I liked it. It’s-- it’s good. It’s good you were honest with me, and told me what you want and stuff…”

“I shouldn’t have said  _ that, _ ” Phil says. “If there’s someone else--”

“There isn’t,” Dan interjects. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh. Ok.” He sounds nervous. Hesitant.

Which is exactly how Dan feels, but he pushes through it. He wants to do this.

“It was my ex-girlfriend. Liv.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah, I… we broke up a while ago, but…” There’s no good way to say this, to say  _ I’m not over her yet. _ Perhaps he hadn’t thought this through properly, but it’s too late now. “I guess I was having a hard time with it still,” he says quietly.

“Was?”

“I saw her today.”

“Oh,” Phil says, and Dan’s stomach twists anxiously. “How was that?”

“It was… I’m not going to lie, it was hard. It was hard to see her again, after everything. But it was good.”

“Good,” Phil repeats.

“Yeah. Sorry if this is like-- if you want me to shut up, I--”

“I don’t, I don’t, I’m sorry. I just-- I mean I figured it was something like that. I guess I just didn’t think you were ever gonna tell me about so I’m just… surprised.”

“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs. “I should have told you sooner.”

“No. It’s your business, Dan, not mine. You don’t have to tell me anything. You still don’t.”

“I want to,” he nearly whispers. 

“Ok. Ok, I’m listening.”

“It was a bad breakup. One that wasn’t my choice. But I didn’t get a choice. I didn’t… I didn’t handle it well. To say the least. So I kind of just… ran away. Here, to London. I got a shitty flat and a shitty job and I was just hiding from life and trying not to feel anything and then… I met you.”

“So… what happened today?” Phil asks. 

“We talked about it all and she like, explained some stuff. Told me some stuff I didn’t really want to hear, but kind of needed to. I dunno. We just… talked. Like we should’ve done a long time ago. I guess like we would’ve done a long time ago, if I’d let her.”

“And it was good?”

“Yeah,” Dan says gently. “It was good. I won’t be flinching anymore.” 

“So it’s over,” Phil says. It doesn’t come out like a question.

“Yeah, of course. You didn’t think… I told you there was no one else, Phil.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s not my place to even--” He cuts himself off, clears his throat. “It’s not like that, right? If you want to… see people. That’s not my--”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Dan says. “Do you?”

Phil laughs. “No, Dan. That’s not me.”

“It’s not me either.”

“Ok,” Phil says, still chuckling a little to himself. “Ok.”

“I’ll understand, though, if this is like… a deal breaker, or whatever.”

“What, you having an ex?” Phil asks. “How much of an ass do you think I am?”

“I just know you probably don’t need anything complicating your life any further right now.”

“You don’t complicate my life, Dan. You make it better.”

Dan can’t handle that. He rolls over onto his front and smushes his face into his pillow. “You too,” he mumbles.

“So… we’re good?” Phil asks.

“Yeah,” Dan says, rolling back over. “We’re definitely good.”

“I feel really stupid for what I said before. About space and all that crap.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dan assures. “I was being a selfish dickhead. You were right. And I wasn’t asking you what you wanted or how you felt about… anything.”

“All I want is to spend time with you,” Phil says softly. “Now that I know you’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re not either, right?” Dan asks. “I mean, besides now, when you’re literally like half a world away.”

“I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

Dan feels warmth tingling all over his skin. He wishes so badly that Phil was here and he could touch him, look at him, hear his voice without the filter of so much distance.

“I have a lot of shit to figure out,” Phil continues. “I’m not kidding when I say I’m a bloody mess. I have a lot to think about and some of it’s probably going to be really freaking hard. But I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

“I have shit to figure out too,” Dan says. “Probably just as much as you if not more, and yeah. I think  _ all _ of it is going to be hard.”

“Maybe a little easier knowing you’re not alone, right?” Phil asks. 

Dan takes a moment to answer. His eyes are wet and his throat is a little tight and he absolutely cannot cry right now. It’d be too easy for him to cry-- again-- after all that’s happened today. He’s had so many profound and difficult conversations today it’s a wonder he’s holding it together at all. 

“I’m probably going to fuck up a lot,” he says eventually. “Fair warning. I don’t really know who I am either. And… yeah. I learned today that I have even more to work on than I thought. Which I know is just… not what you need.”

“Stop that,” Phil says. “Stop trying to push yourself away from me.”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to give you an out if you want one.” 

“Well I don’t. Sorry but you’re stuck with me.”

Dan rolls over onto his stomach again. He can’t seem to control his emotions whatsoever anymore. “I wish you were here,” he mumbles into the pillow. 

“Me too,” Phil says. “It’s so lonely here. There are always people around, but… not the right ones. It’s weird to be surrounded by so many people all day and then come back here to this empty hotel room. I miss my own bed.” He pauses. “I miss your bed.”

“I miss you in my bed,” Dan says. He closes his eyes and pictures the last time Phil was here with him, pictures what they’d done together and how much he wishes he was here now so they could do it again. 

“I haven’t slept right since I’ve been gone,” Phil says. “I miss sleeping next to you.”

“I’ve hated not hearing from you since you left,” Dan admits. “I’ve been watching your videos at night.”

“Have you really, oh god.”

“They’re a poor substitute for the real thing, but better than nothing.”

“No fair, I don’t have any videos of you to watch when I’m all alone at night,” Phil says.

“I’ll guess you’ll just have to ring me then, won’t you?”

“I don’t wanna be  _ that _ guy.”

“What guy?” Dan asks. 

“That clingy guy.”

“Phil. I just told you I’ve been watching your videos at night because I need the sound of your voice to fall asleep when you’re not here. I think the cling is mutual.”

Phil chuckles. It’s a low breathy sound and there’s something so intimate about it. Dan can almost feel it on his neck and it sends a shiver down his arms. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs to himself.

“What?” Phil asks.

“I just… I really wish you were here. I miss your body.”

There’s a noise of Phil shifting and bedsprings creaking on the other end of the line. “Hold on,” he says. “I need to— gimme a sec. Don’t go anywhere.”

Dan uses the opportunity to put his phone on speaker and rest it on his pillow before climbing out of bed. His heart is beating a little faster now— he has no real reason to think so, but his body is telling him something good is about to happen. 

He turns off every light in his flat and pulls off his shirt and his joggers before climbing back under the duvet. He lies on his back and stares up at the ceiling while he waits for Phil to come back.

“Ok, sorry, I’m here.”

Dan doesn’t think he’s imagining the shift in tone. Phil’s voice is softer and deeper, and though Dan can’t see him he likes to imagine that Phil is laid in his hotel bed in the dark and in a similar state of undress. 

“Where’d you go?” Dan murmurs.

“Just wanted to get a little more… comfortable.”

“I hope that means a little more naked.”

Phil makes that sound again and Dan can feel it in his ear like Phil is right next to him. “That depends.”

“On what?” Dan asks.

“On how you’d feel about that.”

“I feel like you should be naked at all times,” Dan says. He runs his hand across his stomach and leaves it there, resting overtop of his navel. 

“Then yes. I wanted to get a little more naked.”

“Good. I did too.”

“You wanted to, or you did?” Phil asks.

“I did.”

Dan hears Phil breathe out slowly. “You don’t know how much I wish I was there.”

“I do, because I wish that too. I miss your hands on me.”

“My hands miss being on you,” Phil says. “I miss your mouth.”

Dan shuts his eyes, his mind flooded with all the parts of Phil’s body he’d like to put his mouth. “What d’you miss about my mouth, Phil?” 

“I miss kissing it. I miss the taste of it. I miss how warm and wet it is.”

Dan’s next breath in takes a little more effort to remain steady. He drags his fingers along his stomach again, imagines they’re Phil’s fingers taking their time caressing Dan’s skin before moving down lower. 

“Where would you want it?” Dan asks, his own voice much lower now too. “If you were here, where would you want me to put my mouth, Phil?”

For a while all Dan can hear is Phil breathing. It’s so irrationally sexy, Dan doesn’t even think he’d need anything else. Just the sound of Phil’s breath right next to his ear is making his own breath hitch. He can feel tingling between his legs, feel the blood pulsing, feel the gentle swelling.

“Everywhere,” Phil says eventually. “Anywhere. Wherever you want to put it. Where do you want to put it?”

Dan sighs. “Everywhere. Wanna taste you everywhere. I wanna kiss your neck and bite your ear and suck your nipples.”

Phil groans then. It’s quiet, so quiet Dan thinks maybe he was trying not to let it out, but he did. He did and Dan heard it and it makes his cock a little harder in his underwear. 

“Fuck,” Phil breathes. “What else.”

Dan’s thumb slips beneath the elastic band of his pants, runs back and forth across the material slowly. “I wanna bite your chest. I wanna suck your neck so hard it leaves marks for days.”

“Dan,” Phil breathes. “You’re making me so fucking hard.”

Dan pictures it. He tries to picture exactly what Phil must look like right now, laid out on white sheets with his phone pressed to his ear and his boxers tented. Or maybe his boxers are already lying in a heap on the floor. Maybe Phil’s already got that big beautiful cock in his hand.

“I want to put my mouth there too,” Dan says, resisting the urge to shove his hand down his pants. He wants to make this last as long as humanly possible. 

“Tell me,” Phil whispers.

“I wanna spread your legs open and kiss the inside of your thighs first.” He does. He really fucking does. He’s not even trying to wind Phil up anymore, he’s just squeezing his eyes shut and picturing exactly what he wishes he could be doing right now. He’s dreaming of Phil’s inner thighs, how white and soft and smooth they’d be beneath his mouth. How easily they’d give with the bite of Dan’s teeth and the noise he knows he could wring from Phil’s lips.

“I wanna suck your balls one at a time and feel your cock on my cheek. I wanna hold them in my mouth until you beg me to blow you.”

He takes a moment then to listen to Phil’s breathing and how much it’s picked up in the last few minutes. He must at least be palming himself.

That image spurs Dan on. “I wanna tease you.”

Phil grunts. “You already are.”

“Do you like it?”

“Fuck yes. Don’t stop.”

Dan’s stomach flips and it takes everything within him not to wrap his hand around himself. “I wanna lick you. Just lightly, like, just with the tip of my tongue. I wanna watch your face as I suck the head like a fucking ice lolly.” 

Phil groans again, this time clearly not trying to hide anything. “You’re so good at that,” he murmurs. “God I miss your mouth.”

“I think it might be my favourite thing,” Dan says.

“What?”

“Sucking your dick, Phil. I love it. I love everything about it, have I not told you that?”

“No,” Phil croaks. “Tell me.”

“I just love it. Your cock is fucking perfect and it feels so good in my mouth. It’s so big and soft and pretty. I love the noises you make when I take it down deep. I love the face you make when you come on my tongue.”

“Fuck.”

“I even love the taste. I’ve never liked the taste before. But you taste so fucking good, Phil.”

That might not be true, in fact it probably isn’t. But it feels different with Phil. It doesn’t objectively taste good but it doesn’t matter, because that taste, that bitter flavour on his tongue means he made Phil feel good. 

And that means something different with Phil than it ever has with any other man Dan’s been with. It’s just as satisfying as his own release. 

“Dan,” Phil says. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Not yet. Are you?”

Phil laughs. “Would you be upset?”

“Course not. What d’you think I’m trying to do here?”

“Ok good, ‘cause I’m already like halfway there.”

“Fuck,” Dan says huskily. He wants to see it. He suddenly feels like he  _ needs _ to see it. “Send me a picture.”

He expects Phil to laugh, or maybe politely tell him to fuck off. Instead his phone buzzes like twenty seconds later. 

“That was fast,” Dan murmurs before he’s even had a chance to open it up. 

“Want you to see what you do to me.”

Dan’s seen Phil’s naked body enough times at this point that a hastily snapped picture of his cock in low light shouldn’t knock the wind out of him the way it does. Phil’s boxers are pushed down below his balls, just low enough to give Phil the access he needs. His hand is wrapped loosely around the base, thumb running up the side and Dan can picture him stroking himself so clearly it might as well be a video.

“Sorry, I know it’s probably gross—”

“Shut up, Phil. You’re beautiful. I miss it. I miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Phil says gently, and Dan thinks he’d be emotional if he weren’t just blindingly horny right now. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you the whole time I’ve been gone.”

Staring at Phil’s picture and hearing his deep voice murmur these things is too much, he can’t stop himself anymore. He pushes the band of his pants down onto his thighs, his cock so hard it slaps low on his stomach as it bobs free.

“Tell me what you think about,” Dan says, wrapping his hand around himself loosely.

“I think about that night you asked me to fuck you,” Phil says without hesitation. “I think about how badly I wanted to.”

Dan sighs, squeezing his fingers around his dick and pushing his thumb against the head. He hasn’t even started pumping yet and he already knows it’s not going to last as long as he’d like. “I want you to. I think about it too. I think about it every time I wank.”

“I do too,” Phil says. “Are you doing that now?”

“Yeah,” Dan breathes. 

“Are you thinking about my fingers inside you?” Phil asks. 

“Fuck. I am now.”

“What about my tongue?”

“Jesus christ, Phil.” He starts tugging then, slowly, twisting on the upstroke. He curses himself internally for having nothing within reach to ease the glide of his hand, not even hand lotion. All he has is the tiny bead of wetness at the tip and a mouthful of spit.

He licks his palm and it’s a little better. Not a lot, but enough to take away the sharp edge of dry skin on dry skin. 

“We need to get fucking lube,” he grunts.

“We need to get fucking lube,” Phil agrees. “I wanna feel you stretch around me.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say. He’s overwhelmed with the force of how badly he wants exactly what Phil wants, and the sensation the desire elicits as he pulls his fist up and down his cock. 

It seems like Phil is overwhelmed too, because he’s not saying anything anymore. If Dan listens very carefully he can hear the sound of Phil working himself over.

“Are you thinking about me riding you?” Dan asks. It’s hard to get the words out but he wants to feel connected to Phil right now. They’re so far away. There’s so much distance between them, he just wants to close it as much as possible, even if just for these blissful few minutes. “Are you thinking about coming inside me?”

Phil is quiet when he comes, but Dan can still hear it, hear the quiet breathy sounds leading up to the moment it happens. He can picture Phil’s eyes squeezed shut and his teeth biting down into his lip. He can picture the mess he’s made of his hand and his stomach. 

“You’re amazing, Dan,” he says quietly. 

Dan can’t say anything back right now. He picks up his phone again and closes out of the picture Phil’s sent of his cock. Dan’s hands are clumsy and fumbling but he manages to open up his camera roll and find what he’s looking for.

It’s a picture of Phil. Phil’s face in the morning, hair a tangled black mess, eyes sleepy behind his glasses. A picture of Phil the way Dan loves him, smiling, a little dorky. Perfect.

Dan’s not thinking of what it’ll feel like the first time Phil’s fingers push inside him. He’s not thinking of riding Phil or how good the stretch will be. Dan’s not thinking about any of that when he comes.

He’s thinking about Phil. Just Phil, and the blue of his eyes and the soft skin on the backs of his hands and the warmth of his mouth when they kiss. 

“I miss you,” he says quietly, after he’s caught his breath and his head isn’t spinning with pleasure. “I miss a lot more than just your body.”

“I know,” Phil replies. “I miss your everything.”

“I think about a lot more than that stuff I said.”

“I know, Dan. It’s ok. I do too.”

“I’m keeping this photo though.”

Phil laughs. “I expect you to send me one next time.”

“It won’t compare to yours but I guess I owe you.”

“I hope it doesn’t compare to mine. I don’t need a photo of my own willy. I can’t get off to that.” 

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I do, I just think you’re wrong. However much you like mine, I like yours more.”

Dan chuckles. “We’re not gonna start this. Agree to disagree.”

“Fine. I know the real truth, though.”

Dan yawns, but he forces himself to sit up. He needs to find something to clean himself off with. “Hey what time is it there?” he asks, reaching for his t-shirt.

“Uh, like 4pm.”

“Oh shit, really? So early. Don’t you have like, stuff you need to do?”

“I  _ may _ have ducked out of a content creator meet and greet thing earlier, but it’s fine.”

“Phil!”

“What, it’s fine. I hate stuff like that anyway.”

“Phil,” Dan says again.

“Look, you said fuck space. I couldn’t ignore that.”

“You could’ve. Ignoring me is always an option.”

“I’d been looking at my phone like every ten minutes for days hoping to hear from you, so… yeah, no. Wasn’t gonna ignore that.”

“I told Liv about you,” Dan blurts. 

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” Phil says. 

Dan’s gut churns nervously. “Is that too much?”

“No. Definitely not. I told Martyn and Corn about you.”

“You did? Like, when you were drunk?”

“No, before that. I mean I kept telling them about you a lot  _ more _ once I was drunk, but I was very sober for the initial conversation.”

Now Dan’s stomach-- and everything else really-- feel all fluttery and squirmy again, like he could crawl out of his own skin for how giddy he is. “When are you coming back?” he asks quietly.

“Like three days or something. Not soon enough.”

“Definitely not soon enough,” Dan agrees. “Should you, like-- do you have to go back to doing YouTube-y stuff?”

“I do in a bit, but not yet. I can talk for a while. If you want.”

Dan smiles. “I want.”

He’s not sure how long they talk before he falls asleep. It’d been a long day for him-- one of the longest really. Adding that to a rather spectacular orgasm and the overwhelming comfort of Phil’s soft deep voice right in his ear and the darkness of his flat, it probably hadn’t been all that long.

He wakes up the next morning with his phone wedged between his head and the pillow, a single text waiting for him. 

_ you’re cute when you snore _


	19. Chapter 19

“I’m coming back tomorrow.” Phil yawns. He looks tired. Even in the dim light of his hotel room filtered through the pixels of their skype call Dan can see the dark circles that ring his eyes. 

“Technically today for me, right?” Dan asks.

“What time is it there again?”

Dan’s eyes flick up to the corner of his screen. “Like half seven in the morning.”

Phil chuckles “Oh, shit. Time zones. Sorry, I kind of forgot.”

“I have to work in a bit, so you’re just my slightly too early alarm for the day,” Dan says, smiling. He doesn’t say that he would have answered regardless. “So… today?”

“Yeah… wait, no. My flight’s at 10am, so technically I think it’ll be tomorrow for you too.” 

Dan spends about three seconds trying to do the calculations in his head before giving up. “It’s too early for maths. When are you getting here?”

Phil groans. “It’s too late here for maths.”

“Isn’t it kind of always a bad time for maths?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

Dan pouts. “I want to know when I get to see you again for real.”

Phil groans again and rolls out of sight. He comes back a minute later with his plane ticket clutched in his hand. “It’ll be… like 4:30am.”

“Oh, god. Is that really the best flight you could get?”

Phil shrugs. “It’s cheaper this way. My manager likes to cut costs wherever possible.”

“I was gonna say I’d meet you at the airport, but…”

Phil smiles. “It’s ok. I’ll be back safe and sound by the time you wake up.”

“Or… you’ll be tired when you get back, yeah?” Dan asks.

Phil snorts. “I’ll be nothing more than a husk of my former self. Jet lag is a bitch.”

“Well, my door will be open,” Dan says softly. “You could just climb into bed with me. I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow.”

“I want to tell you that you need to lock your door but at the same time… I really want to climb into bed with you the instant I get back.”

“I’m not going to lock my door,” Dan murmurs.

“Then I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning bright and early.”

Dan grins. “Can we stay in bed all day?”

“We’d better.”

“Good, ‘cause guess what I did last night on my way home?”

Phil reaches over to put his ticket on the nightstand beside his bed. He makes himself comfortable under the duvet before he says, “What?”

“I bought lube.”

Phil huffs a quiet little laugh and looks down. Dan sees the tip of his tongue poking out. 

“Guess what?” Phil says.

Dan raises his eyebrows.

“I did too.”

Dan wonders if it’s entirely normal that those three words have him turned on already. “Today’s gonna be a long day.”

Phil nods. “It’s gonna be a long flight for me.”

“It’s late there, isn’t it?” Dan asks.

Phil shrugs. “It’s not even midnight yet, but I do have to be up pretty early.”

“Do you need to sleep now?”

Phil cocks an eyebrow. “Do you need to get ready for work?”

“Not yet…”

Phil’s voice drops down deeper, distinctively gravelly in a way that Dan recognizes now as the tone he reserves for sex with Dan. “Wanna test out your new purchase for me?”

 

Dan is right— it’s a long day. It’s a long day at work spent roaming the narrow aisles of the shop, straightening the books on the shelves and trying not to think of Phil’s face as he watched him wank through his screen. Trying desperately not to think of how it good it felt to come with his fingers inside himself and trying not to think of how much better it’s going to feel when it’s Phil who’s inside him. 

It’s hard for him not to pull out his phone and look at the small collection of cheeky photos he’d acquired over the past few days. He wonders if Phil is feeling the same way, wherever he is right now. Maybe he’s asleep on the plane with his forehead pressed against the window as he flies over the Atlantic, or maybe he’s doing exactly what Dan’s doing: reliving the hot filthy memories of this morning, trying to avoid opening up his camera roll to the collection Dan had sent him in return, counting down the minutes until their skin is touching and they’re breathing the same air again. 

It’s not just Phil’s body Dan’s missing, but it’s definitely occupying its fair share of Dan’s mental faculties as he tries to ride out the boredom of his seemingly never ending shift. 

Then he kicks himself, because he realizes he’s even worse at maths than he’d given himself credit for, and Phil isn’t even on the flight yet. He’s probably just waking up, or maybe riding in the back of a car to LAX. 

Time moves too bloody slow, he thinks. 

_ i was right this is the longest day of my life _ Dan texts. He’s not expecting an answer but he gets one anyway.

_ i’ve only been awake for an hour but i already agree.  _

Dan smiles, looking up from his phone to make double sure there’s no one else in the shop.  _ i had fun this morning _

_ me too. slept like a rock after that so i owe you _

_ how nsfw can i get with you right now?  _ Dan asks.

_ you better not send me another photo right now daniel i don’t want to be on a 10 hour flight with blue balls the whole time _

_ lol no not a pic. just wanted to tell you something dirty. i’m bored at work and i can’t really stop thinking about. stuff. _

_ tell me _ Phil texts.  _ i’m bored too _

_ what about blue balls _

_ i’ll manage _

Dan chuckles.  _ just. i haven’t done that in so long. i forgot how much i like it. this feels weird _

Phil’s reply is nearly instantaneous.  _ it’s not weird.  _

It does feel weird to Dan, though. Typing out the words  _ i forgot how much i like it _ has his mind suddenly reeling.

_ i thought i wanted to be dirty but i think i’m actually getting weirdly deep. in a non sexy way _

_ about fingering?  _ Phil says.

_ shut up! _

_ i’m sorry! i’m not taking the piss i’m just trying to understand  _

Dan bites his lip. He’s not even sure  _ he _ understands. He feels… open, both physically and emotionally in a way he hasn’t in a long time and it’s suddenly so overwhelming. He wants to talk about it, and maybe Phil’s not even the right person for this particular conversation, but Dan’s not sure he has anyone else right now. 

Maybe Liv had been right. Maybe he really had built his life around her to a dangerous extent and now he’s finally awake enough to see just how painfully right she’d been. He’d heard what she’d said and he’d agreed, but he hadn’t quite felt the true weight of just how true it was. 

The realization hits him now, hard in the chest, that he doesn’t want to make this same mistake with Phil. He wants Phil to be a part of his life, but not the only part. 

He types out a message with shaky fingers.  _ i think i’m having a slightly terrifying epiphany atm _

_ i’m here.  _ Phil says.  _ you can talk to me _

_ it’s just. i can still feel it you know. like. stretched a little bit. and it made me remember how much i’m into it. and then that made me realize how long it’s been since i even knew what it meant to do something i’m really into.  _

_ i mean besides what i do with you. i don’t mean i’m not into you. you’re great. but you’re part of what makes this terrifying.  _ That doesn’t make sense and Dan knows it but he sends it anyway.

_ i’m sorry dan i don’t think i understand _

_ ugh i’m sorry i shouldn’t unload on you like this i shouldn’t make you my therapist _

_ you’re not. you’re making me someone you trust enough to talk to _ Phil texts. 

Dan takes a deep breath in. He’s actually genuinely panicking a little all of a sudden. All he wanted to do was sending a dirty text about how much he wants to feel Phil’s cock in his ass and now he’s questioning everything. 

_ i like bottoming. _ Again he sends the text knowing full well Phil’s probably sat in the airport wondering if Dan has fully gone mad since the last time they’d spoken. 

_ yes you told me _ Phil texts back.

_ but i was with liv for so long and we didn’t do that because i never really told her it was something i’d want from her _

_ oh _

Dan continues.  _ and that was something she said the other day, like the main reason she left me, because i wasn’t even my own person with her. i lost myself. or maybe i’ve never known myself i don’t even know. i feel like a fucking stranger to myself  _

He sends it and then quickly follows it with,  _ sorry _

_ don’t apologize _ Phil says. 

_ have i officially scared you off now?  _ Dan asks.

_ of course not. i like you so much dan. and i don’t know myself either.  _

_ i want to know myself _ Dan texts.  _ and also to stop sending you melodramatic texts _

_ you don’t have to stop _

Dan scrubs his hand down over his face. He has to stop. He can’t fall apart right now. He’s at work.

_ i’m gonna stop _

_ we can talk when i’m back? _ Phil texts.  _ unless this is your way of saying you actually do need some space… _

_ it’s not _ Dan replies.  _ it’s really not. _

_ so we’ll talk? _

_ amongst other things :) _

_ i can’t wait _ Phil replies.

Dan doesn’t waste a moment pulling up the number of his therapist’s office and calling to make an appointment. He can talk about it with Phil and maybe that will help a little, but he’s not willing to live like this anymore. He needs to deal with his shit like the adult he’s avoided becoming. He doesn’t want to watch another good thing slip through his fingers because he’s afraid of facing himself.

 

He only half wakes up when he feels Phil’s body slot against the back of his. He sinks his fingers between Phil’s and pulls Phil’s arm from where it’s slung across his waist, pulls it up to his chest and leans his head down to kiss Phil’s knuckles. 

Phil’s knees press up against the backs of his. Phil must have taken his clothes off before slipping under the covers because Dan can feel the warmth of skin on skin and he shudders. It feels like it’s been so long. It hasn’t really, but even in his hazy early morning state he takes note of just how good this all feels and how much he’s missed it. How much he doesn’t want to go without it again.

He feels a kiss press gently to his neck and Phil’s voice whispers, “Go back to sleep.”

So he does. 

 

They’re still in the same position when he wakes up for real. He turns himself around, not waiting to even make sure Phil is awake too. He doesn’t care. He can’t wait anymore.

Phil’s not awake, at least not all the way. His eyes are still closed but he smiles, wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist and pulling him in close.

“Not time to wake up,” he mumbles.

“It is,” Dan counters. “It’s late.”

“Is it?”

“I dunno. I just missed you.”

Phil hums contentedly. “I missed you too. I missed this.”

Dan tucks his head up under Phil’s chin. “When did you turn me all mushy like this? What have you done to me?”

“Maybe that’s just who you were always meant to be,” Phil says. “Which reminds me… should we talk? We said we were gonna talk.”

“We could talk. But first we should kiss.”

Dan tilts his head back and Phil leans his down and their lips meet. Dan closes his eyes and opens his mouth enough to taste, enough to feel Phil’s tongue against his, morning breath be damned. He’s not even scared in the slightest by the thought he has then, which is that he wants to wake up this way every day. 

He wants to wake up to Phil’s soft skin and Phil’s warm mouth and Phil’s deep voice every single morning. His hands wander, tracing the contours of Phil’s body as if he’s forgotten them. He hasn’t, but it’s nice to feel them again all the same.

Phil touches him back, kisses him back with gentle enthusiasm, but neither seem in a hurry to take it any further. Their texts and calls and nights on skype had been fueled by sex and promises to have their way with each other the moment they were in the same room again, but now that they are it seems all they really want to do is kiss and drag their fingers over the other’s skin. 

Dan’s not sure how long they stay like that, attached at the lips and wrapped up in each other before Phil pulls back.

“Dan,” he says softly. 

“What?” He leans in and kisses Phil again. He never wants to stop.

“We should talk.”

“No, we shouldn’t. Talking is stupid.”

Phil rolls himself right on top of Dan then, sitting on his hips and pinning him against the bed.

Dan pouts. “Can’t you just let me ignore my problems until I forget they exist?”

Phil shakes his head. “I reckon I’d be a bad… friend. If I did that. I think you wanna talk.”

“I think I want to kiss you.”

“I want to do a lot more than that,” Phil says, splaying his fingers out across Dan’s stomach. “Which is why we need to talk first.”

“Because you want our first time to be special?” Dan asks. He’s teasing, but he’s also not. 

“Shut up.”

“But you do.”

Phil’s looks into Dan’s eyes and he’s not laughing anymore. “I do.”

“Ok,” Dan says quietly. “Ok, let’s talk.”

Phil flops off Dan’s lap to lie on his back. They lie next to each other in silence for a while, Dan staring up at the ceiling and trying to calm his racing heart. He could very well fuck everything up right now.

“I don’t know where to start,” he croaks.

“You said you had an epiphany.”

Dan nods.

“That you weren’t yourself in your last relationship?”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, it’s more than that.”

“Ok,” Phil says gently. He doesn’t push, he just lies there patiently and waits for Dan to explain.

“This feels like too much. I don’t wanna— you’re gonna see how damaged I am and jump ship.”

Phil slides his palm into Dan’s fist and closes his fingers over Dan’s knuckles. “I’m not. And you’re not damaged. You’re just human.”

“I guess I just… like you. And I don’t want to make the same mistakes. Not that it’s— I mean, I’m not saying we’re—” he cuts himself off. 

Mercifully, Phil is there, squeezing Dan’s hand and speaking to him in a voice so kind and soft Dan could cry. “You don’t have to worry, Dan. You can say what you want, I’m not going to get scared. I’m not going anywhere. I feel like… I feel like we’re kind of feeling the same things. You don’t know exactly who you are and what makes you happy, yeah? And right now I don’t either.”

“You make me happy,” Dan whispers. “And that’s what scares me.”

“Why does that scare you?”

“Because… you could leave. Or I could get too attached and lose myself even more.”

Phil lifts up their intertwined fingers and kisses the back of Dan’s hand. “You make me happy too. Happier than anything has in a long time. I’m not keen to give that up.”

Dan turns his head on the pillow and Phil does too. They look at each other for a long time. Phil’s eyes are focused so intently on Dan’s they seem not to blink even once. 

“I’m just as attached as you are, Dan, can’t you see that?”

“And it doesn’t scare you?”

Phil shakes his head. “We make each other happy, right?”

Dan nods, swallowing over the sudden tightness in his throat.

“So we can figure the rest out.”

Dan chuckles. “It’s that simple?”

“I think it is, if we’re honest with each other.”

“Ok. Honest.”

Phil nods. “So tell me something honest.”

“I’m depressed,” Dan blurts.

“Oh. Ok. Like… now, or…?”

“Like, clinically.”

Phil just nods, not taking his eyes from Dan’s even now. 

“I need to work harder at keeping it under control,” Dan says. It feels strange to say these things out loud when he usually avoids even thinking them in his head. “It’s been like, my defining personality trait for too long.”

“Ok,” Phil says softly. “That’s good. We can— you can do that. Sorry. I know it’s not about me.”

Dan smiles. “We is good.”

Phil smiles back, but then that little dark cloud of fear returns to tell Dan this is wrong, this is too much, he’s just letting himself fall into the same patterns.

“But what about the part where I get too attached? Because I like the sound of we… but what if— what if I honestly don’t know where to draw the line?” He’ll give himself credit for one thing— he’s definitely being honest. 

“This is something your girlfriend told you?” Phil asks. “That you were too attached?”

Dan nods.

“But she didn’t tell you this until after?”

Dan bites his lip. “It’s possible she tried and I just wasn’t listening.”

“But you’re listening now,” Phil says quietly.

“I think so.”

“So maybe that’s the difference.”

“You reckon?” 

“What’s the alternative?” Phil asks. “Walking away from something you want because you weren’t perfect in the past? You don’t have to keep punishing yourself, Dan.”

Dan can’t contain the affection that bursts itself open in his chest. He grabs the back of Phil’s head and pulls him forward until their mouths crash together. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone like this, but he decides for sure in that moment that he’s done trying to push him away or question if they can make it work. If Phil wants to try, Dan’s going to try. To walk away now would be simply impossible. 

He pulls away before he gets lost in it. “Ok, your turn. Tell me something honest.”

Phil keeps his eyes closed, like he wants to hide from what he’s going to say. “I think… I think I want to come out. On the channel.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I know. Like, I don’t  _ want _ to but… I don’t know if I can be myself in my videos if I can’t be  _ myself,  _ y’know?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I think I get it.”

“It would change everything,” Phil murmurs. “It’s fucking terrifying to even think about.”

“Coming out is definitely scary,” Dan agrees. “I can’t really imagine doing it on that scale.”

Phil huffs. “Yeah, mate. Neither can I.”

“Sorry. I’m a twat.”

“You’re not. You’re being honest.” Phil turns over on his side to face Dan and Dan follows suit. “That’s good. That’s what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“It also feels really fucking good, though,” Dan says. “Didn’t you feel that relief when you told, like, your parents?”

“Not really. Not til much later. They didn’t really… they didn’t handle it all that well.”

“I’m sorry Phil. Fuck.”

“You know, if I’m completely honest, a lot of my fans will probably be super happy and proud of me. They’ve been speculating for years. I think I actually have a lot of queer fans. Maybe I don’t hide it as well as I think I do. Like, they’ll probably even take it better than my family did.”

“I’m sorry Phil,” Dan says again, softly. He doesn’t know what else to say.

“I don’t know what to do. I know a lot of them will be nice about it, but a lot of them won’t be. I’ll probably lose a bunch of subs. Maybe certain companies won’t want to sponsor my videos anymore. Maybe I’ll just become ‘that gay YouTuber’ and that’s all they’ll see me as after that.”

“I mean… maybe,” Dan says. “But maybe not. You don’t have to like, make a grand statement, right? You don’t have to make it this big focus.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean, you could just… instead of presenting yourself as something you could just-- just stop editing yourself so much. Just be you.”

Phil frowns. “I haven’t done that in ages.”

“And you also haven’t been happy with your content in ages, right?”

Phil raises his eyebrows in surprise. “It sounds so obvious when you put it like that.”

“It’s not obvious. None of this is obvious. I don’t know if I could do it if I were in your position. And anyway, you don’t need to decide right now. Obviously.”

Phil groans. “I haven’t put up a new video in ages, though. I know I need to film  _ something _ I just… the whole channel feels so foreign to me right now. It feels like a stranger’s channel.”

“You can put up whatever you want, right?” Dan asks. 

“Technically, yeah.”

“So like, if you just— like let’s say you just set up the camera and filmed yourself like, doing something you genuinely enjoy. Like playing fucking Zelda for half an hour or something.”

Phil chews on the corner of his lip. “Might be kinda boring if it was just me. And I like playing games better with you anyway.”

Dan cocks an eyebrow. “We could do that.”

“Film ourselves gaming and put it on my channel?” Phil asks incredulously. “You’d do that?”

Dan shrugs. “Of course. It’d be even less of a big deal than having to introduce me in your liveshow. I mean, if you still wanted to to do that—”

“I do.”

“We could start with this,” Dan offers. “Just two bros playing Mario Kart together.”

Phil frowns. “We’re not bros.”   

Dan leans forward and presses his lips to Phil’s. “We’re bloody not. But they don’t have to know that if you don’t want them to. This is what I mean by not making a grand statement, though. We can just play some games in front of a camera and post it to your channel. You don’t have to say ‘this is my best bro Dan’ but you also don’t have to say ‘this is Dan who gives great head.’ According to you most of them already know about me in some capacity anyway, right?”

Phil nods. 

“It’s just a thought, anyway,” Dan says.

“It’s… it’s actually a really good thought. Gaming is like a popular YouTube thing, actually. And I spend a lot of my time losing to you at Mario Kart. It’s very Phil.”

Dan grins. “It is.”

“I still want to introduce you in a liveshow.”

“That’s fine. I’m here.”

Phil rolls back over onto his back and laughs. “Why are you a better YouTuber than me?”

“Phil, I watched every single one of your videos this past week. Every single one. You are an amazing YouTuber ok, and I won’t stand for you implying anything to the contrary.”

Phil hides his face in his hands. “Jesus christ, every single one?”

Dan giggles and rolls over so he’s laid on top of Phil. “Yup.” 

Phil moves his hands from his face and trails them down Dan’s arms to grip his waist. Dan drops his head down and presses his lips to the spot just below Phil’s ear. He feels like they’ve had enough honesty for one morning. He lets his teeth graze Phil’s skin and Phil’s fingers tighten on his sides.

“What were we talking about?” Phil asks.

Dan answers by reaching down and cupping Phil through his pants. “I don’t remember.” 

Dan feels the reverberations of Phil’s laugh where his lips are pressed to his throat. He chases that wonderfully deep breathy sound to Phil’s lips. Phil kisses back hard and deep, licking into Dan’s mouth and making his head spin. He’d missed this even more than he’d thought.

When Phil pulls away it’s too soon and Dan doesn’t want to let him go, but Phil says, “Dan,” with the kind of insistence that stops Dan from resisting.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want anyone to think we’re bros. I really don’t want that.”

Dan smiles. “Ok good. I don’t either.”


	20. Chapter 20

Dan is still lying on top of Phil, no doubt crushing all the breath from his body, his lips slowly working their way up Phil’s neck. Everything today is slow. Slow and warm and really the opposite of the searing filth of their correspondence of the past week. Dan doesn’t feel in a hurry. He feels like he could run his tongue over the veins beneath Phil’s translucent skin forever.  

But Phil’s hands are gripping his waist with a firmness that belies the peaceful contentedness Dan feels with the pace he’s set for what’s happening here, fingertips digging into Dan’s flesh a little harder every time Dan’s teeth graze his mouth-dampened skin.

“What do you want, Phil?” he whispers into Phil’s ear before biting down gently on the edge of the lobe. He feels Phil shiver beneath him.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. What do you want?”

Dan buries his face in the dip where Phil’s neck meets his shoulder. He wants so much. He wants anything and everything. He wants it all right away, all at once. There’s no way he could make any kind of choice right now. His mind can’t make sense of the sheer amount of want that courses through him.

“I can’t,” is all he manages to get out before his mouth finds its way back to Phil’s skin. He latches on and sucks, taking note of the way Phil’s neck arches just the slightest bit, pushing his head back into the pillow. Dan’s waiting for Phil to tell him to stop, that he can’t leave a mark there because they’re going to film a video later.

He doesn’t. In fact what he does is cup the back of Dan’s head, slide his fingers into Dan’s hair and push gently, encouraging Dan to suck even harder.

“Fuck,” Phil groans under his breath. “Yeah, harder.”

Dan’s stomach clenches with pure white hot excitement. “Gonna bruise,” he warns. “People will be able to see.”

“Good.”

Dan can’t keep focused after that. He gets sloppy, licking and biting and never staying in one spot for too long lest he miss out on an inch of pale flesh he’s not yet had a chance to taste. Phil’s hands are pressed tight to Dan’s lower back, pushing their bodies together in a way that has Dan aching for movement and friction.

Or maybe not. Maybe he just wants to taste Phil somewhere else. He’s always been a giver even more than a taker, and he hasn’t been able to give Phil anything more than photographs and promises in what feels like ages.

He pushes himself up on his hands and spreads his legs to bracket Phil’s with his knees. Phil doesn’t even seem to notice, eyes closed, chest heaving as Dan kisses down to his clavicle. Phil’s hands fall from Dan’s back to his thighs and he sucks a sharp breath in through his nose when Dan bites down a little too hard on the protruding bone.

“Sorry,” Dan breathes, kissing against his own little pink teeth marks.

Phil just shakes his head and slips a hand underneath the left leg of Dan’s boxers, sinking the tips of his fingers into the crease where his thigh meets his pelvis. He’s a little sweaty there from the heat of the summer sun that fills the flat and the rising temperature in his own hormone-addled body, but he doesn’t give it a second thought. He knows Phil doesn’t care. Maybe he even likes it a little.

Dan likes it. Sweat feels like them. It feels like the weird magic of this dreamy summer, of slipping into the life of a stranger and finding himself along the way. Phil runs his index finger down into that damp crease and now Dan shudders, squeezing against Phil’s body as his legs clench. Phil is dangerously close to brushing up against the hard cock nestled in Dan’s underwear and it makes Dan feel out of control, like his brain has lost the ability to communicate with his body.

He doesn’t want that— yet. He wants to make this, all of this, last. He wants to draw out every part of it, make it something the both of them will remember. Dan pushes himself up on his hands a little further and looks down at the broad expanse of Phil’s shoulders and chest, at the hair that grows there and the soft pink of his nipples.

He’s momentarily overwhelmed by all the things he wants to do, daunted by thoughts of making sure every freckle and birthmark gets its time beneath his lips. He wants to feel the stiffness of those rosy nubs between his teeth, hear Phil’s moan as he sucks them. He wants to lick into Phil’s belly button and squeeze the little soft bits that sit on the sides of his hips.

“Dan.” Phil interrupts him from his thoughts. “Let’s have a shower.”

“What, no.” Dan frowns. Phil is almost naked and definitely hard and a lovely red flush is starting to creep down his chest. He looks as inviting as anything ever has to Dan and the thought of being anywhere else right now is frankly offensive. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“I was sat on an airplane for ten hours.”

“You know I couldn’t give less of a fuck, right?” To drive home his words he shuffles back a bit and drops his tongue down, dragging the tip of it across Phil’s nipple.

He feels the quick rise of Phil’s chest as Phil takes a sharp breath in. He grins and bites into the fleshy give of Phil’s pec, framing the skin around his nipple with his teeth.

Phil’s neatly trimmed nails still find a way to press sharply into Dan’s upper thighs. “Don’t,” he croaks.

“You don’t like it?” Dan asks.

“I do. Too much.”

So of course Dan licks over it again, slower this time, his tongue flattened and his fingers rolling the other in between them. Phil squirms, pressing his thumbs down hard into the tender skin of Dan’s inner thighs.

“Fuck you,” Phil says breathily, a laugh behind his tone.

Dan shakes his head. “Other way ‘round.”

“After we shower,” Phil rasps.

“Phil. I thought you understood by now I like it dirty.”

Dan actually lifts his head up then to look at Phil, smirking when he sees Phil really has no comeback for that one.

“What do you want?” Phil asks again. His eyes are closed and Dan knows he’s won.

Dan scoots back til he’s sat atop Phil’s shins. “I want you to shut up and take whatever I give you.”

Phil grins and nods, flopping his arms out and stretching them across the pillows. It registers vaguely in Dan’s mind that he’s never said anything like that before to anyone. He’s never been demanding between the sheets in the slightest, in fact quite the opposite.

All he’s really demanding is for Phil to stay where he is, but still. It feels like some kind of progress, even if his brain is too muddled with lust to work out exactly what it means.

He only has room in his head right now for one thing, and that’s how much he needs to get Phil fully naked as quickly as possible. He reaches out and tugs on Phil’s pants. Phil lifts his hips off the bed enough for Dan to get them pulled down past his ass and the rest is quick. He slides them down Phil’s legs and tosses them somewhere behind him.

He takes time to look, because the photos in his phone don’t do Phil justice. He’s here now, in the flesh and neither of them have anywhere else they need to be. Dan probably wouldn’t even care if he did.

He nudges Phil’s legs open and settles between them, pushing them apart, spreading them out wider than they really need to be. He likes that, likes the complete lack of resistance he gets from Phil. It feels like trust.

Phil’s eyes are open now and he’s looking down at Dan, who’s sat back on his heels and tracing his finger lightly down Phil’s side, dragging over the jut of his hip bone and down the front of his thigh.

“Make sure you’re comfortable,” Dan says, voice low. “This is gonna take a while.”

Phil grabs a second pillow, craning his neck forward and shoving it under the one already beneath him. His head is more propped up now and Dan can tell he’s got a much better view.

“What’s got into you?” Phil asks softly. So it would seem that Dan isn’t the only one who’s taken note of how different this all feels already.

“I’m… I’m making sure I’m my own person. I want to blow you so that’s what I’m going to do. Unless…?”

Phil shakes his head. “Please.”

Dan lies down on his stomach between Phil’s legs, propping himself up on his elbows. It’s not going to be the greatest angle, it won’t be the most efficient blow job he’s ever given, but that’s kind of the point. He doesn’t want to get Phil off like this. He wants Phil to enjoy himself, but more than that _he_ wants to enjoy himself. He wants to suck lazily on Phil’s cock and look up into Phil’s eyes until he can’t help but beg for whatever’s going to come next.

He completely ignores what’s right in front of him, at least for now. He’ll get there, and when he does he’s going to stay there a long time. First he wants to make good on something he’d said a few days ago.

“Remember the first time we did dirty shit on the phone?” Dan asks, resting his cheek against the unfathomably soft skin of Phil’s inner thigh.

Phil nods. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

“D’you remember what I said I wanted to do?” He presses a kiss against that warm skin.

“My brain doesn’t work right now,” Phil says. “Your face is like, five centimeters away from my dick.”

Dan breaths a laugh and kisses Phil’s leg again, opening his mouth against it just to appreciate how soft and pliant he is there.

“That’s why I thought you might remember.” He kisses up the inside of Phil’s thigh, all the way up to where the bone of his hip presses the skin tight. He sinks his teeth in there and Phil tenses beneath him. Dan makes a mental note— Phil definitely likes the biting.

“Why don’t you show me?”

“I’m trying to,” Dan replies, because Phil might not be able to remember, but he does. He remembers exactly what he’d said, because it’d been exactly what he’d wanted to do, and now he can. He’s got Phil exactly how he wants him and he’s going to make real all the dirty talk he’d whispered into his phone that night.

Phil’s cock lies hard against his hip. Dan takes a moment to look, to admire, but against his hip is where it’s going to stay for now. He distinctly remembers saying something about teasing, something about balls, and something about not touching Phil’s dick until he begged for it, and he thinks that sounds like a pretty fucking great plan.

In the spirit of teasing, he starts by opening his mouth and fitting it against the shape of Phil’s balls, breathing hot against them and trying not to giggle at the surprised sound Phil makes.

“I fucking remember now,” Phil croaks.

Dan responds by sucking one ball gently into his mouth and running his tongue along the little folds in the skin. Phil smells vaguely of sweat and the musk of unwashed skin but it’s not bad. It makes Dan feel a little naughty, like maybe they shouldn’t be doing this but they are anyway because they just can’t resist each other.

And that’s true. That’s definitely true and it makes his own dick swell a little more where it’s pressed up hard through his pants and against the mattress. He rolls Phil’s ball out of his mouth and sucks the other one in and hears Phil sigh.

“Why does that feel so good?” Phil murmurs.

Dan wishes he could see Phil’s face and whatever expression it wears right now but he’s pressed up against the underside of Phil’s crotch and that’s not bad either. He manages to keep Phil’s ball in his mouth and stick his tongue out to lick the skin underneath.

He’s never done that before. Not to a man. He’s never drawn his tongue from balls to hole before and he finds he wants to now. He won’t, because there are some things you do need to shower for, but he makes another mental note— he wants to eat Phil out some day, preferably soon.

So he doesn’t go down far, but he still tongues at the beginning of Phil’s taint and— oh. Phil _definitely_ likes that.

So Dan changes his plan a little. He hadn’t planned on using fingers but it’d been him who insisted on skipping the part where they got clean so he moves his arm between Phil’s legs and presses two fingers against that seam of smooth skin. He presses and moves in tight, gentle little circles and Phil makes a noise Dan’s never heard him make before.

He pops off Phil’s ball and groans because he can’t help himself, this is too hot and too surprising and he hadn’t been prepared for it. His experiences with blokes up til now had been almost exclusively about sucking dick and getting fucked and now— now he’s not even sure _what_ he wants, because actually he kind of really wants to fuck Phil.

“Jesus christ,” Phil mutters under his breath.

Dan lifts his head a bit because now he _has_ to know what Phil’s face looks like. He’s not disappointed with what he sees, Phil’s eyes squeezed shut and his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“Phil?”

Phil doesn’t even acknowledge Dan in the slightest. Dan is still rubbing those circles into Phil’s taint, gently but rather mercilessly and he smiles at how lost Phil seems to be with it.

“Phil,” he says again, a little louder this time.

“What?” He doesn’t open his eyes though he unsinks his teeth from his lip. Dan can see the marks from here.

“Would you let me fuck you someday?”

“You can fuck me whenever you want. You can fuck me right now.”

Dan drops his forehead down onto Phil’s thigh and can’t help pressing his hips into the mattress. It almost hurts his dick with the force of the grinding but it’s the good kind of hurt, the kind that just makes him want more.

He wants too much. He wants everything, and though he knows that’s exactly what Phil will give him, he also knows he can’t have it all at once.

“Next time,” he says, kissing Phil’s hip. “Definitely next time.”

“Dan.”

“Hm?”

“You’re waiting for me to beg, right?”

Dan smiles. “You remembered.”

“Consider this me begging, yeah?”

“Begging for what, Lester?” Dan chuckles.

“Just— more. Whatever you want to do, just more. I need more.”

The instant Dan gets his tongue on Phil’s cock, he knows his grand plans of dragging this out and savouring it had been far more ambitious than anything he could actually achieve. Phil’s half-lidded eyes watching from above have his stomach curling up tight with his own need, but he does try.

He does start out teasingly as he’d promised, dragging the tip of his tongue up the shaft and licking across the tip. The taste is strong and Dan thinks he was right, it’s not a nice taste but it’s one he’ll only have when he has Phil at his most vulnerable, his most trusting, and that makes it nice. That makes it a taste Dan wants more of.

He holds Phil at the base, his fingers wrapped around just to keep him in place so he can have his way, so he can chase more of that taste and the way Phil huffs when Dan dips his tongue into the slit with purpose.

“More,” Phil says. “Please.”

Dan smiles, his tongue still licking across the head, hot and flushed red from being neglected for too long. He pulls with his fist, pulls the skin tight so the whole head is exposed and closes his lips around it loosely.

This is his favourite part. He hadn’t been kidding about wanting to suck it like an ice lolly, and that’s exactly what he does, looking up at Phil through his lashes the whole time. It’s— it’s fun, it’s just as simple as that. It’s fun and Dan thinks that’s enough. It’s enough to be kind of sloppy with it, kind of silly, swirling his tongue on that glossy smooth skin and dragging his lips up and off slowly and pressing them into a kiss at the tip just because it’s fun.

He thinks maybe that’s a part of himself that he’d lost somewhere along the way. Perhaps it’s a bit strange that it took giving Phil head like this to realize it, but it’s true. He’d lost what it meant to have fun, to do things he liked just because it made him smile.

Phil’s been helping him find that part of himself again, the part that can be loud and obnoxious, the part that laughs until his abdomen is sore. The part that takes time out of giving someone else pleasure to do something _he_ wants to do just because it’s fun. Like driving Phil slightly mad with anticipation by sucking only at the head because it satisfies his own oral fixation while also taking zero effort or coordination.

Maybe he’s overthinking this like he does everything else. Maybe his head is just a jumble of sex and happiness and he’s looking for a way to make that mess into some kind of profound statement, but that’s ok, because for once he actually likes what he’s thinking. It doesn’t leave him feeling empty and alone like overthinking usually does.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Phil asks.

Dan smirks. He’s not, but he likes hearing Phil vocalize the effect Dan has on him. He takes a risk and lets his teeth graze that sensitive skin ever so gently.

Phil jumps and Dan stops. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Phil doesn’t respond right away. He’s looking down at Dan in surprise and Dan’s holding his breath, slightly terrified he’d gone and thrown away all the trust Phil had bestowed upon him. He wants to sink down now, swallow Phil whole and make him forget, but their eyes are locked and something in Phil’s expression tells Dan to wait, tells him not to panic just yet.

Phil reaches down and runs his finger along Dan’s jaw to his lips still slightly parted. He rubs over Dan’s bottom lip with his thumb before pushing the tip of it into Dan’s mouth. He presses down against Dan’s teeth and Dan feels like maybe he’s gone mad, but he closes his jaw and bites slowly into the soft pad of skin.

And there’s no two ways around the fact that Phil enjoys that. He pushes his thumb harder against Dan’s teeth and Dan thinks surely it must hurt but he doesn’t stop.

“Do it again,” he whispers, pulling his thumb free and pushing Dan’s dampening curls off his forehead.

So Dan does it again, lets his teeth drag lightly against the head of Phil’s cock, and this time Phil doesn’t jump. In fact he moans, the first proper one this morning. Dan doesn’t know how far he should take it, where the line between pain and pleasure is drawn for Phil, so he does it just once more before very suddenly dropping his mouth halfway down on Phil’s cock. He’ll find out later exactly how hard he’s allowed to bite. Right now he’s run out of patience for teasing and holding back.

His own cock is starting to hurt a little and he pushes it against his bed as he pulls his mouth up enough to take a breath in through his nose. Phil’s legs are tensing and his fingers are buried in Dan’s hair, palm resting against Dan’s scalp but not pushing. Dan doesn’t think Phil would push unless he was asked.

The thought twists hot in his stomach and he adds it to the growing list of mental notes as something he wants to try sometime. Not right now though. He doesn’t really want kinky or rough right now. Actually now he just wants to make Phil feel good. He’s had his fun and now he wants to take Phil apart, and he knows how to do that. He has a deep mouth and a long tongue and a burning desire to put those things to good use.

Phil’s fingers tighten their grip on Dan’s hair gradually, but he never loses control. He never pushes Dan’s head down or thrusts up into Dan’s mouth, not even when Dan relaxes his throat and takes him down all the way.

Actually though, Phil’s starting to pull on Dan’s hair in a way that prickles along his scalp, like all the tension in his body, all the building momentum has but one frustratingly ineffective release, namely Dan’s sweaty hair. And Dan’s not complaining. It seems they both get a kick out of things being just slightly too much.

He bobs up and down in long, drawn out movements, sucking as he pulls up from the base all the way to the tip and back down again. He’s good at this and he knows it. He pulls off completely for a moment, a perfect string of saliva still connecting the head to Dan’s lip. It’s absolutely filthy and Dan grins when he sees just how wrecked Phil looks, head tipped back against the pillow and arm thrown over his eyes.

“Phil,” Dan murmurs. “You have to watch.”

“S’too much,” he croaks, but he flops his arm to the side and lifts his head. “Fuck.”

He’s an asshole and he knows it, but Dan can’t help sticking his tongue out and licking into the slit, staring up at Phil through his lashes pornographically. It might even be a little too over the top, but Phil is obviously too far gone to see it as anything but enticing.

Maybe Dan takes a little too much pleasure in Phil’s sigh of relief as he sinks back down. He doesn’t actually want to tease anymore but hearing such clear confirmation that Phil is enjoying himself does something to Dan. It spurs him on. His jaw is aching and his neck is strained but he barely feels it because he can hear Phil’s little noises and feel his hair being pulled again and it makes his head bob fast, makes him press his tongue against the shaft as he moves and—

“Stop. Dan, stop.”

It’s the first time he’s ever considered ignoring such a request from Phil, but of course he doesn’t. “What?”

“Come here please.” Phil reaches down for Dan and Dan lets him pull him up to lie against his chest and press their mouths together.

“Didn’t wanna stop,” Dan murmurs.

“I didn’t wanna come. I still want to—”

Dan kisses him. “Me too. Me too.”

“Take off your pants,” Phil whispers. So simple and yet Dan feels fire beneath his skin. They’re actually going to do this, then. There’s nothing stopping them anymore besides a pair of underwear and the time it takes to get Dan open and ready.

“And… get the lube?” Phil says almost shyly.

Dan pushes himself up and yanks off his pants with no ceremony whatsoever. He leans over the side of the mattress and grabs the little blue bottle from where he’d left it, right next to his plant pot. He pushes it into Phil’s hand and falls forward onto Phil’s chest again.

He fits his mouth against Phil’s and tries to keep himself composed as one of Phil’s hands runs down his back and over the curve of his ass where it stops and squeezes gently. Dan thinks he should probably get himself in a better position now but he finds he just-- he just really doesn’t want Phil to stop kissing him. His skin is tingling with nerves and kissing Phil has been an act of grounding since the very beginning.

He hears the pop of the bottle being uncapped. Phil must have done that one-handed somehow, because his other hand is still splayed out against Dan’s ass cheek. This man is full of surprises, Dan thinks. He trips over his own feet and can’t make air quotes to save his life but when it comes to uncapping a bottle of lube…

“Can I?” Phil whispers, and all Dan can do is nod.

He only tenses a little when he feels cold slickness run down the line between his cheeks. It’s a lot, definitely more than he needs, but it makes him smile that Phil would err on the side of caution in that regard.

“Sorry,” Phil says against Dan’s lips. “We’re probably going to make a huge mess of your bed.”

Dan doesn’t answer, but he thinks Phil knows he doesn’t care. He licks against Phil’s tongue to communicate that all he cares about is this and Phil seems to get it. He kisses back with just as much fervour as he sinks his finger between Dan’s cheeks and draws it down through the abundance of lube. He runs gently over Dan’s rim and keeps going, but it’s enough to cloud Dan’s mind with just how much he wants this.  

He spreads his legs a little wider. He thinks there’s no way Phil could interpret that as anything but an invitation, and he’s right. Phil brings his finger back up and strokes it against Dan’s hole.

“Yeah?” he asks. Dan hums.

Phil pushes gently, and it takes less than Dan would have thought for the tip to slip inside. It’d taken more the other day, but he supposes he’s still a little more open than he’d normally be. He’d only used two fingers but he hadn’t exactly been gentle there at the end, and he’s glad. It had felt fucking good then and it’s going to feel even better now, he can already tell. Phil’s finger doesn’t feel like an invasion in the slightest, and Dan clenches around him to prove it.

“More,” he says.

Phil gives him more. They kiss and Phil works his finger inside until there’s room for another. He can’t go deep because of the awkwardness of the angle and he even goes so far as to apologize for not being able to reach the spot he wants to reach, but Dan assures him with grunts and lip bites and erratic rolls of his hips into Phil’s that he doesn’t fucking care. Fingering is all well and good but tonight it’s a means to an end and he wants to get to that end as soon as possible.

The fingering is good though. It feels good but more than that it feels intimate in a new way and Dan’s glad he gets to kiss Phil at the same time.

Underneath him he can feel their cocks touch every time he rolls his hips just so. Phil moans and moves his lips down Dan’s jaw to his neck. Dan fumbles his hand around blindly until his fingers brush the bottle. He opens it up and squirts some out and tosses it somewhere to his left before reaching down between their bodies and getting the best grip he can on Phil’s dick given their position. His ass is probably slick enough that this step is redundant but he’s glad he’s doing it because Phil moans when Dan spreads that slickness down his shaft.

“D’you not want me to wear a condom?” Phil asks.

“Not unless you want to.” He squeezes Phil’s dick which seems to render him incapable of speech because he bites down on his lip and answers simply by shaking his head.

“I’m ready,” Dan says.

Phil pulls his fingers out slowly and carefully and Dan feels a twinge of fondness in his chest. Even with the imminence of actual full on sex he’s still meticulous about putting Dan’s needs above his own.

Dan sits up and puts his weight on his knees on either side of Phil’s hips. He’s still got a hand wrapped around Phil, wanking him slowly and enjoying the glide of it. Even just having Phil in his hand like this feels good. Phil is big and full and his face is so beautiful, twitching with pleasure every time Dan twists his wrist the way Phil likes.

His heart is pounding against his ribs. He tells himself it’s just sex. They’ve been having sex the whole time they’ve known each other, so why should this feel any different. Why should this feel like so much more.

He can’t deny that it does though. It feels like more as he lines Phil up against himself, as he feels the tip of Phil’s cock pressing against him, pressing into him just the slightest bit. It feels like more when Phil grips his waist and stares up into his eyes and asks, “You ok?”

Dan _is_ ok, but he also feels like he might cry if he thinks about it for too long, so he grips Phil firmly in place and sinks himself down slowly but surely, ignoring his body’s base impulse to stop. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to feel it all, all the cheesy shit, all the flowery ways people describe making love. He wants to feel that connection to Phil, like two becoming one and all that. Sharing themselves with each other in the most physical sense of the word.

Phil makes a breathy noise of relief when Dan bottoms out, but he doesn’t move a muscle. He gives Dan all the control, which is good because Dan’s probably taken him in a little too fast. It hurts a little but he stills himself and takes a deep breath, his hands braced on Phil’s chest.

“Can you touch me a little?” Dan asks. He knows that’s all it will take to erase the slight discomfort he feels.

Phil takes hold of Dan, his hand still slick from before and it feels even better than Dan had been prepared for. They’ve been at this awhile and the most relief he’s gotten has been some desperate grinding on his mattress, so Phil’s big hand gently stroking sends tingles shooting down his legs and up into his guts and suddenly the fullness feels nothing short of amazing.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, lifting himself halfway off and then dropping back down again. They make matching sounds of satisfaction and Dan goes for it, pushing his hands hard against Phil’s chest and riding.

Phil looks up at Dan unblinkingly. He looks slightly pained but Dan’s confident he’s enjoying this as much as Dan is. He keeps his fingers curled into a loose fist around Dan’s cock, letting Dan do the work of actually creating the movement. It’s perfect— it’s just enough not to feel frustrated but not enough to risk ending this whole thing too soon.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Phil says, and Dan’s never felt more exposed. It doesn’t feel like a line, an empty assurance muttered into quiet air just to fill the space as so often happens in Dan’s experience with sex. It sounds like something Phil said because he couldn’t fathom not saying it.

Dan just smiles and drops his chin down sheepishly. He watches himself moving in and out of Phil’s hand and his stomach lurches with tingles and flutters and a slowly building heat.

He’s not using any of his tricks. He’s not doing anything fancy or special, because he can’t. The drag of Phil’s hard length inside of him feels even better than he thought it would, and it’s all he can do just to remember the basics. All he has to do really is move himself up and down and he’s overwhelmed with the sensations.

He leans down, crushes his chest against Phil’s and presses their mouths together. It’s too hard and haphazard to really be called a kiss but he can feel Phil’s tongue against his and that’s enough. He stops riding and hopes Phil will know to pick up his slack.

He does, letting go of Dan’s cock and gripping his hips and thrusting up into him. And fuck, that’s a whole new kind of too much for Dan. He moans right into Phil’s mouth and wraps his arms around the back of Phil’s neck. He wants to say something, apologize for not being able to give Phil as much as he’d imagined he could. He wants to promise he’ll do better next time.

But then Phil groans low in his throat and croaks, “I’m sorry I’m— fuck. I don’t know how long I can—”

Dan buries his face in Phil’s neck, a strange half laugh half sob escaping his lips. Of course, _of course,_ Phil is having the same kind of thoughts Dan is right now. Of course he is. When will Dan learn to stop expecting anything else?

“We have to do this again soon,” Dan murmurs. “This is not my a-game.”

Phil snorts. “If that’s true I don’t think I could survive your a-game.You’re so—” He slides his hands down a little and squeezes Dan’s ass cheeks. “You’re so _tight._ ”

Dan shakes his head. “You’re just big.”

Phil answers by slapping Dan’s ass. Not that hard, but it still makes a noise and Dan can feel it even after Phil’s moved his hand away and it’s… hot. It’s absurd how hot Dan finds that. He parts his lips and sinks his teeth harshly into Phil’s neck and Phil seems to find that absurdly hot too.

Phil stops thrusting then. “I need to— can we just go slow for a sec? I’m sorry, you’re just—”

Dan understands how Phil feels, but he doesn’t want to stop. He wants more, he wants everything and he doesn’t care if it’s all about to be over because Phil’s about to come. He wants that too.

He lifts his head and grips the back of Phil’s shoulders and manages to pull him up to sitting without having to come apart. He wraps his legs around Phil’s waist and his arms around Phil’s neck and kisses him. Phil’s legs are crossed underneath him, his cock still nestled snugly inside.

The theme of the day seems to be slightly restrictive positions but again, Dan doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter that Phil may not hit the right spot like this. It doesn’t matter that he probably won’t be able to come until after Phil has pulled out of him because this is about so much more than coming.

Phil’s hands are gripping Dan’s hips so hard he thinks they may bear bruises later. He pushes down and Dan can feel Phil plunging inside deeper.

“I’m not going to last,” Phil grunts.

“Good,” Dan replies. “Come for me.”

“Kiss me.”

Dan can do that. He can definitely do that. It’s wet and deep and a little desperate, too much tongue and not enough air for his lungs. His head swims and he tightens his legs like a vice around Phil as Phil fucks into him slowly. He wedges his hand between their bodies and squeezes his dick because he doesn’t care about coming but the pressure is too much not to warrant at least a little bit of relief.

Suddenly he’s being picked up and pushed down flat on his back against the mattress. Phil is above him, pushing Dan’s legs up and thrusting hard and fast, a lot harder and a lot faster than anything they’d done before and Dan can’t stop the high pitched sounds that are ripped from his throat. Phil’s hitting his prostate like he knew exactly where it was all along and it’s too much, it’s way too fucking much.

“There there there,” he babbles. “Right there fuck. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Dan moans and curses and bites into his knuckles and wanks himself furiously because it’s actually going to happen. He’s going to come and soon, maybe even before Phil does.

“I’m so close Dan I’m sorry.”

“Don’t stop.”

“You feel so good, I can’t—”

“Please,” Dan whines. He’s sure he’ll be mortified later, but right now he can’t bear the thought of losing this bliss pounding into him. “Please don’t stop.”

Phil slams into him then and so does his orgasm, hard and fast and so all consuming he forgets to breathe. He can’t hear anything anymore, can’t see anything because his eyes are squeezed shut tight like he wants to hide from the intensity. He thinks he’s shaking and twitching but he’s honestly not sure. He feels transported to a place where there is nothing but the waves of pleasure rolling through him.

He doesn’t even feel it in his dick. Probably he’s made a mess of himself but he doesn’t feel it. He feels it everywhere else, in his toes and his fingers and his tongue. He feels it in the strain of his neck and the slight cramping in his thighs. He feels it in the way his jaw is clenched, the way his teeth are ground together against the aftershocks.

He feels the weight of Phil flopping down beside him, crushing his arm underneath his chest. He manages to open his eyes and Phil is there next to him on his stomach, looking at Dan with a blissed out expression. His hair is sweaty and his cheeks are flushed, his eyes a blinding blue in the light of the day.

“What…” Dan murmurs, confused. “What are you doing?” It registers vaguely that this isn’t right, Phil still needs his own release.

“My legs are jello,” Phil croaks. “I’m resting.”

“What about…?” He seems to have forgotten most of the words in his vocabulary.

Phil props himself up on his elbows and brings a hand to Dan’s chest. He drags his finger across it and it’s not until then that Dan feels the cooling wetness splattered against him.

Phil giggles. “Sorry. That was rude of me, wasn’t it?”

Dan frowns. He’d missed it. Phil had come on his own and Dan hadn’t been able to help. He hadn’t even been able to watch. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I’m the worst.”

“Nope,” Phil says, flopping back down and pulling Dan in closer against his side. “You’re the best. That was so freaking hot.”

“I abandoned you,” Dan pouts.

“You gave me the best— Dan. Seriously. Watching you was so hot I couldn’t wait. It’s my fault for being impatient, not yours. Hey.” He puts his finger under Dan’s chin and tilts his head up. “That was the best sex of my life, ok?”

Dan nods and Phil leans in and kisses him. It’s so soft and gentle and… loving. That word is swirling around Dan’s head and he can’t deny it terrifies him but he also can’t deny that it’s there. He’s going to table it for now. It’s definitely too soon for that. And anyway, he can feel it without saying it.

“You’re crushing my arm, mate,” he says instead.

Phil laughs and rolls over. “Sorry.”

“Come back though.” He reaches out for Phil, hating even the foot of distance between them. He feels suddenly raw and open in more ways than one and he wants to feel Phil’s arms around him.

They lie there in a mess of lube and sweat and come, holding each other quietly, listening to the sounds of their synchronized breathing and the cars outside the open window. They need a shower but it can wait. Everything else can wait. All Dan wants is this.


	21. Chapter 21

Their legs are tired and their bellies full of food they’d gone out of the flat to eat. Out is where they’d stayed, spending the rest of the hours the sun burned hot in the sky wandering the busy streets of their neighbourhood drinking iced coffees and riding the euphoric feeling their bodies had created for each other in Dan’s bed. 

Outside the window, the sky is painted shades of pink and grey as night descends. Dan is sat on Phil’s sofa now, watching him set up a rather intimidating camera atop a tripod pointed straight at him. The Mario Kart theme music plays from the television, as it has done for the past twenty minutes or so. 

“This feels terrifying,” Dan says. The light Phil had dragged from his bedroom and set up beside the sofa is hot as it beats down on his face. “I feel like I’m about to get interrogated.”

Phil turns his head in Dan’s direction. His cheeks are sunburnt and beneath the red and Dan can see freckles that hadn’t been there this morning. “How many more dark secrets you hiding, then?”

Dan smiles and raises his hands up. “I’m an open book.” Strange how true that is. Phil’s already read so many of his darkest pages and he’s still here, still looking at Dan like he hung the moon and the stars. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Phil says softly. “I can always film another sleepless night video or something.”

Dan shakes his head. “We’re just gaming, right?”

“Just gaming,” Phil repeats. “You’ll kick my ass like you always do, just this time we’ll have videographic evidence.” 

He hands Dan a controller before sitting down next to him. It feels familiar in Dan’s hands, but somehow simultaneously foreign now he’s thinking how many people are going to be watching him hold it. 

“What do I— how do we do this?”

Phil leans to the side and plants a kiss right on Dan’s mouth. It’s no quick peck, and Dan almost forgets what they’re here to do. He pulls away and looks at the camera, and at the little red light glowing there, plain as day.

“That thing is on, isn’t it?”

Phil chuckles and pulls his legs up to cross beneath his body. “I can cut that bit out.”

Dan takes a slightly shaky breath in and holds it an extra moment before letting it go. It’s silly to be nervous, but it’s how he feels all the same.

Phil bumps his shoulder into Dan’s but keeps his lips to himself this time. “Don’t worry, Dan. Right now it’s just us. We’re just gonna play Mario Kart, and if you decide you don’t want me to post it, I won’t.”

“I reckon we should’ve gotten drunk first,” Dan says, only half joking.

“That’s… that’s not a bad idea, actually. That’d probably get more views.”

“Your channel is g-rated,” Dan points out.

“My channel is also a bloody mess right now. If I’m going to rebrand I might as well go all the way, yeah?”

Dan lets his eyes wander Phil’s face, a fond smile spreading across his own. “Maybe baby steps. Maybe gaming and guest stars are enough for now. I reckon you should probably work your way up to swearing and strippers.”

Phil cocks an eyebrow. “You gonna take your clothes off for us, then?”

Dan rolls his eyes, turning his face away in an attempt to hide his grin. “As soon as the camera’s off, mate.”

Dan expects some kind of witty retort, but there’s silence beside him. He turns to look and Phil is chewing on his lip absentmindedly, a far away look in his eye.

“What’re you thinking about?” Dan asks quietly, all traces of teasing gone now.

Phil snaps out of his thoughts visibly, looking at Dan and giving him a rather flat looking smile. “Nothing. You ready?”

Dan nods, storing this moment away in his mind to bring back later. It’s definitely not nothing, but Phil’s clearly not keen to discuss it at this particular moment. “Can I actually swear though?”

“Do whatever you’d normally do. I do have a degree in film editing you know. I can cut this bad boy into whatever I want it to be.”

“Anything except you actually winning.”

“Shut up and choose your damn kart, Howell.”

 

“All or nothing!”

“All or nothing?” Dan screeches indignantly. “What d’you mean all or nothing?! I’ve won the last four races in a row! You’ve literally lost every single race!”

“Exactly! And now this one determines the winner!” Phil shouts back, his words garbled by how hard he’s laughing. “That’s what all or nothing means!”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Where’s your sportsmanship, Dan?”

“Where’s yours?” Dan looks straight into the camera then, shaking his head. “This guy,” he says to his imaginary audience conspiratorially. 

Only it’s not really imaginary. It’s not there now but it will be eventually, as long as he doesn’t get cold feet about this whole thing. His heart beats quicker when he thinks about it, so he tries very hard not to. 

It hasn’t been as hard as he’d thought. Playing games with Phil is fun. It feels natural and he’d slipped right into it once they’d started racing and he’d honestly forgotten the camera was even there until now. 

“What are we playing for?” Dan asks, turning his attention back to Phil, because big blue eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement are a lot less intimidating than a machine recording his every move. “What do I get if I win?”

Phil looks at him for a moment before his eyebrows quirk up and an absolutely enormous shit eating grin breaks out across his face. Dan’s mouth opens in disbelief and they stare at each other for a good ten seconds before they snap their heads forward, remembering where they are and what they’re doing.

“Well ok then,” Dan mutters. “In that case, prepare to lose, buddy.” It’s very clearly too much, and Dan just assumes this is another bit that Phil will simply cut out later.

“What if I win, though?” Phil asks, and Dan’s surprised to hear the cheekiness in his voice. He’s just making more work for himself in the editing process. 

Dan looks at him, lets his eyes rake all the way down and back up Phil’s body, taking in the length of him and how good he looks in his shorts that are just a little too short and his uncharacteristically plain black t-shirt. It’s only then that it registers that Phil’s hair is pushed back lazily and his glasses are on, and really he looks nothing like the AmazingPhil that Dan had come to recognize in his videos. 

And even more than that, here they are eye fucking each other with a camera pointed at them. The moment suddenly feels charged in more ways than one. It feels like five steps forward for Phil in one go.

Now Dan is horny and proud all at once and it’s a confusing mess of sensations in his chest so he just forces a laugh and says, “Don’t worry, you won’t.”

“Oi!” Phil squawks. “You’re gonna taste these wheels. I’m going to leave you behind in the dust a broken man.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Dan says in the spirit of keeping the playful competitive banter going. He doesn’t really give a fuck about the game anymore but he also wants to give Phil a good video, now more than ever.

They shout at each other the whole time, trading teases and taunts that gradually get less playful once they reach the final lap. The closer they get to the finish line the more heated they get as by some miracle Phil had actually managed to keep up this time. 

Dan doesn’t actually care who wins, but he keeps up with the shrieking and and the cursing because it’s fun and silly and he hopes it’ll make for a good end to Phil’s video. 

In the last ten seconds Phil hits Dan with a shell and steals first place and he’s finished the race before Dan even has time to recover. 

Dan makes an ungodly high pitched noise and bites down on his controller while Phil throws his hands up in the air and gloats.

“Yus! I can’t believe I’m officially the Mario Kart master!”

“This is a bloody farce!” Dan protests. “This is literally not fair.”

“Respect the rules of all or nothing, Daniel.”

Dan rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he claps his hands together patronizingly. “Well done, Phil, you snek.”

“Hey, I won fair and square.”

“Did you? Was it fair?” Dan’s voice is still pitched up much higher than is natural for him as he plays up his indignation for the the camera. “Do you deserve this victory, Phil? I feel like I’ve been well japed here.”

Phil bumps his shoulder into Dan’s. His voice is surprisingly husky when he says, “You loved it. You can’t wait to do it again.”

Dan is temporarily distracted by the blatantly flirty tone of Phil’s voice. He looks up and over at Phil who’s looking at him with a strange intensity. 

“Right,” Dan says awkwardly, giggling a little because he doesn’t know what else to say. He can’t think of a response that’s even remotely clever, and he kind of just really wishes they weren’t being filmed right now.

“Right,” Phil says, snapping his head back to face the camera. “Well guys I hope you enjoyed this, give me a thumbs up if you want to see more of Dan here, maybe we’ll do this again.”

“You expect me to come back after this absolute—”

Phil lunges at Dan and clamps his hand over his mouth. “So yeah, my last video’s over there, check that out, and click subscribe if you’d like to see more of me, or maybe even more of me kicking this guy’s butt at various video games and I will see you next time. Bye!”

Dan is smiling against Phil’s palm as he gives a little wave to the camera. 

Then Phil’s hand is gone and quickly replaced by his mouth, parting Dan’s lips and licking against his tongue. Phil is kissing him with passion and insistence, pushing him down onto the sofa and climbing on top of him, sliding his hands under Dan’s shirt just to feel the warmth of his skin. 

It’s frantic and it’s hot and Dan is immediately swept up in it. He lifts his arms above his head and Phil chases them with Dan’s t-shirt, pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. Phil’s lips find just the right spot on Dan’s neck and Dan works his hands down the back of Phil’s pants to squeeze the soft rounded flesh there. It takes Phil’s hands fumbling with Dan’s belt buckle before he remembers that this most private of moments is actually still being recorded.

“Phil, Phil, camera,” Dan pants. 

Phil’s mouth is working its magic just below Dan’s ear and his only response to Dan’s words is to grunt. Dan has to muster all his willpower to put his hand on Phil’s chest and push. He hates the loss of Phil’s mouth when it detaches from his neck but he instantly feels more level-headed without it. 

“Phil, turn off the bloody camera.”

Phil is still hovering over Dan, his weight braced on hands that bracket Dan’s head. “What if I don’t want to?” 

Dan pushes harder on Phil’s chest until Phil is forced to sit back on his heels. “We’re not making a sex tape tonight, Phil.” Dan smiles. “Not tonight.” He gets up off the sofa and goes over to switch the camera off himself. 

Dan’s belt is hanging open as he turns back around. Phil is sat on the edge of the sofa, leant forward with his elbows on his knees and watching Dan with hungry eyes. Dan feels that look in his gut, feels a shiver of anticipation under his skin and can’t resist riling Phil up a little more. He puts his hand on the button of his jeans and gives Phil a look he hopes is sultry and inviting. 

Apparently it works because Phil growls, “Take them off and come here.”

Dan curses himself for still insisting on wearing only the most painted on of trousers as he peels them off his legs. It doesn’t feel sexy but Phil’s looking at him like it is, so he pushes aside his self deprecating thoughts and holds Phil’s gaze.

Phil stands when Dan walks back over to the sofa, pulling him in close as soon as he’s within arm’s reach and kissing across his jaw and down his neck.

Goosebumps travel down Dan’s arms and he chuckles, linking his wrists behind Phil’s neck. It feels strangely hot to be stood there in nothing but his pants while Phil is still fully clothed and sliding his hands down Dan’s sides. 

“Does filming videos with me make you horny, Phil?”

Then he gasps, because Phil’s hands have slid down to the backs of his thighs and are pulling them apart, lifting him up, supporting his weight under his ass as Dan wraps his legs around Phil’s waist. 

“Yeah, it does actually,” Phil says and Dan has no words left. Everything inside him is fire and desire and he squeezes his legs tight round Phil’s middle, kissing him hard as Phil walks him over to the bed. 

Of course, this is Phil and Phil possesses an above average level of clumsiness, a fact that doesn’t cease to be reality just because Dan’s temporarily forgotten it, distracted by how insanely hot this moment is. So yes, Phil trips, and yes, they both go flying, but luckily they’re close enough to the bed that nothing gets broken and the worst thing that happens is that Phil lands hard on top of Dan as they both crash into the mattress. 

Dan laughs when the air returns to his lungs and Phil hides his face in shame. “I was trying to seduce you,” Phil says sheepishly and Dan kisses him because Phil being Phil is the most seductive thing he could ever do.

Their laughter dies down quickly and Dan gets Phil out of his clothes just as fast as he can. 

The second time they have sex that day is nothing like the first. It’s not measured or slow or burdened by the trepidation of newness. Phil clings to Dan, kisses him with an urgency Dan’s never felt from him before. Dan matches it, because he’s not quite sure why, but something about filming that video had set them both off. Something about it had felt  _ right,  _ like the kind of step forward they’d both been looking for.

Dan can’t explain it yet. All he knows is that he’s in love with this moment and he wants to feel Phil everywhere, inside and out and all around, and that’s exactly what he gets. He lies on his back and spreads his legs and Phil is there with his lips against Dan’s, filling him up and taking him apart and coming undone inside him.

There’s no conversation about Dan staying anywhere other than Phil’s bed afterwards, warm under the covers with Phil’s back pressed tight to his front. In fact they don’t talk about anything, though Dan has a million thoughts running through his head. It’s late and Dan can tell that Phil is tired— and he knows the thoughts will still be there in the morning. He can keep them to himself for now.

They whisper their goodnights and Phil falls asleep quickly. Dan closes his eyes and presses his hand to Phil’s chest to feel the steady rise and fall of his breaths. Behind his eyelids, the images his mind supplies take him by surprise. 

Where he’s expected to see memories of all the shared intimacies of the day there are playful shouts and flashes of go karts and fanciful racing tracks. There are pointed glances and thinly veiled innuendos and the space between them on the sofa, charged with a crackle of something he’s not sure they’d managed to hide from the camera.

There is the recollection of the pensive look on Phil’s face before they’d started playing and the look of exhilaration after. 

Dan’s sure that means something. He wants to know what it is.

It takes him a long time to fall asleep, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t worry about it. He presses his forehead between Phil’s shoulder blades and matches his breathing with Phil’s until everything is quiet and dark.

 

His joints are stiff and slightly achy and they crack as he stretches his arms above his head. He hears a soft chuckle before he’s even opened his eyes. He tries to look but his lids are heavy like he’s been asleep for days.

He shuffles forward toward the dip in the bed where he knows Phil is and presses his face into soft naked skin. Fingers comb through his hair and Phil says, “Morning gorgeous.”

Dan hums and nuzzles further into what feels like Phil’s… waist? He forces his eyes open and there Phil is, sat up against his pillow with his macbook on his lap, glasses slid halfway down his nose, headphones shoved down over his ears.

“What you doin’?” Dan croaks. His vision is still bleary and he can’t stop his eyes from trying to blink away the haze of what must have been quite the lie in.

Phil smiles, pulling one of the headphones to the side so he can hear better. “Editing.”

“Already?”

“Mhm. I’m actually almost done.”

“What? Was I asleep that long?”

Phil looks away from his screen and down at Dan and smiles. “You looked so cute, I wanted to let you rest. Yesterday was...”

Dan hides his face against the joggers pulled over Phil’s hip. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “It was.”

“Anyway it hasn’t been  _ that  _ long. I haven’t had to cut much out.”

Dan pulls his head back and looks up at Phil with a frown. Surely he can’t have heard that correctly. 

Phil rolls his eyes. “I cut out the kissing bits, don’t worry.”

“Not worried,” Dan says, hauling himself up to sitting. “Just… curious, I guess. Surprised.”

“It’s just a rough cut, technically. I’ll take out anything you want me to.”

“Phil. That’s not what I’m saying.”

Phil just nods, squinting at the screen. “You swear a  _ lot, _ mate.”

Dan huffs. “This is hardly news.”

“I never noticed quite how bad it gets when we game. I’ve never really had to censor like this and it’s kind of exhausting.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself next time.”

Phil smiles. “Next time?”

“Assuming you get enough of those sweet thumbs, I suppose.”

A silence falls in the space between them and Dan’s not even sure if it’s a comfortable one or not. He’s starting to wake up now, and with his consciousness come the thoughts and questions that’d been swirling last night. He yawns, his eyes still trying to blink away the heaviness in his lids.

“If you felt like having a shower I think I’d be done with this by the time you got out,” Phil says softly.

“That a hint?” 

“Course not. I just—”

“It’s alright Phil, I’m just taking the piss. I’ll shower.” 

He’s just steeling himself to untangle his limbs from the warmth of Phil’s sheets when he feels Phil’s hand on his. Phil doesn’t say anything, just gives Dan a smile. A real one, a Phil one, one that lights Dan up on the inside and has him leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to Phil’s mouth. 

“Brush your teeth too,” Phil says after Dan’s pulled away, earning himself a slap on the arm. He’s still laughing as Dan walks out of the room, naked as the day he was born. 

 

Dan makes coffee with a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water still dripping from his hair. He stirs the milk and two sugars into Phil’s, smiling. It’s stupid but it makes him happy, this little thing that he just  _ knows. _ He knows how Phil prefers his coffee and he knows it goes both ways. He knows if he’d been the one in bed that Phil would be bringing him a coffee made just the way he knows Dan likes it. 

Phil’s face lights up when Dan hands him the mug. “You’re an angel,” he says, blowing the steam off the surface of the boiling hot liquid before taking a sip that would have burned any mere mortal’s tongue beyond repair.

Dan puts his on Phil’s nightstand and drops his towel before climbing back into bed. “I’m showered,” he says, pushing his damp curls back out of his eyes.

“And I’ve finished editing,” Phil replies. “Wanna see?” 

Dan nods, his pulse quickening nervously. Christ, when will he learn to just… chill. 

“Just remember, I can take out anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Phil says gently, slipping his hand under the duvet and resting it above Dan’s knee. “Or I can just trash the whole thing.”

Dan rolls his eyes and reaches across Phil’s body to press play on the damn thing, but he also sneaks his hand down below the covers to hold Phil’s. 

It may even be more blatant than Dan had imagined. The looks, the teasing banter, the feeling of tension between the two of them— even on Phil’s computer screen, it’s all there, painfully palpable and dripping from every frame. 

Everything that had felt charged in the moment comes across doubly so in the video. Dan wonders if Phil feels the same. 

He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid because he fucking loves every second of this video, and to hear Phil express even slightly less enthusiasm than what Dan feels right now would hurt. 

“You can see the hickey I gave you,” Dan says quietly. Had Phil not noticed that?

“I know.”

They look at each other. “People will assume I gave it to you, yeah?” Dan asks.

“Probably.”

“You’re not bothered?”

“Are you?” Phil asks.

Dan doesn’t have to think about it. “No.”

“Then I’m not either.”

Dan smiles. He’s thinking about all the things he’d wanted to discuss with Phil as he lay awake last night, but he’s not sure he really needs to anymore. 

“What were you thinking about yesterday?” he asks, because that’s one thing he’s still wondering about. “Before we started filming.You said it was nothing but…”

“I guess I was just thinking about a future where we could say whatever we wanted and I wouldn’t have to worry about cutting it out or making it look like something else,” Phil says softly after a long pause. 

Dan shuffles over a little closer, so their legs are pressed together and he can lay his head down on Phil’s shoulder. “This is a good first step.”

“You’re ok with it?”

Dan nods. “I love it.”

“Should I upload it?”

“That’s up to you, Phil. Do you  _ want _ to upload it?”

Phil is quiet for a long while before answering. “Yes.”

“Are you scared?” Dan asks.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to decide now.”

Phil sighs a long and drawn out breath. “I’ve already decided. I just need to grow the balls enough to actually do it.”

Dan can’t help smirking. “Your balls are just fine. Trust me on this.”

Phil places his laptop and his coffee carefully on his nightstand before pushing Dan down onto the pillows. 

  
Dan has a neck full of love bites of his own an hour later when Phil presses publish on the video titled  _ Dan vs. Phil — Mario Kart 8. _


	22. Chapter 22

“I’m afraid to look.”

It’s the next morning and they’re sat like the adults they are at Phil’s kitchen table, studying each other’s sleepy morning faces over mugs of too-sweet coffee. It’s too sweet for Dan anyway, but he sips it gratefully, trying not to make an unnecessarily pretentious connection between the way Phil takes his coffee and the way he’s slowly softened the bitter edges of Dan’s sadness since the day they met.

“Are you?” Dan asks gently. He knows exactly what Phil means without Phil having to explain himself any more than that.

Phil doesn’t answer right away. He takes a swig of coffee and Dan watches his glasses fog up from the steam.

“Afraid is the wrong word, but… yeah.”

“What’s the right word?”

This morning had started out not unlike the one before it, with their mouths attached and bodies pressed together, wandering hands and caressing fingers and toe curling satisfaction. Easy and warm and better than Dan can really even wrap his head around, but there’s something else there today too, something uneasy. Something Dan can tell Phil’s feeling without him having to speak it out loud.

But Phil’s speaking it out loud now, and Dan wants to make sure he listens.

Phil just gives his head a nearly imperceptible shake, staring down at his coffee.

“You reckon they’ll be freaking out?”

Phil looks up. “Probably, yeah. I mean, you saw it.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees. “It was… different, for you.”

“Very different.”

“But that’s good right?”

Phil’s smile is warm but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It is,” he murmurs. “It is.”

“Do you regret it?” Dan asks. He hopes Phil answers honestly, even if it means saying something that might hurt Dan to hear.

“No, course not. Just don’t know if I’m ready to look.”

Dan reaches his foot out blindly under the table and makes contact with the bare skin of Phil’s calf. He rubs his socked toes against Phil’s leg and hopes it comes across comforting and not just weird and awkward. “You don’t have to look.”

Phil pushes his chair back and stands up then, wrapping his palm around his mug and motioning with his head for Dan to do the same. “C’mon.”

“What are we doing?” Dan asks.

“We’re going to go look.”

 

Phil’s chest is pressed tight against Dan’s back, his legs wrapped around Dan’s middle and hooked at the ankles in Dan’s lap. He’s essentially made himself into Dan’s human backpack-- even his arms are wrapped around Dan like he can be shielded from whatever they’re about to see. Dan smiles. He’ll be Phil’s shield today. He can do that.

Phil’s macbook is sat on Dan’s thighs, open on the Google homepage. Phil’s forehead presses hard in between Dan’s shoulder blades and his legs tighten their grip on Dan’s waist.

“We could do something else, Phil. We could do literally anything else.”

“No, I need to do this. It’s my job, I can’t just ignore it.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Dan asks.

“Nothing,” Phil mumbles into the back of Dan’s shirt. “There is no worst. I don’t care what people say.”

“Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t. I mostly got over that a long time ago. People are going to say what they’re going to say, and some of it is going to be shitty no matter what kind of content I post.”

Dan doesn’t say anything. He lets Phil have the silence in the room, because he knows he has more to say.

“It’s not about what _I’ll_ see, really,” Phil continues after a long pause.

Dan twists his head back to try to get a look at Phil’s face. “What, me?”

Phil nods.

“Why?”

“Because. Like I said, this is my job. It’s not yours. You didn’t sign up for any of this.”

“I’m the one who suggested it,” Dan reminds him.

“I don’t want them to scare you away,” Phil murmurs. “I’m well attached to you at this point.”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere. We’ve already been chased through the streets, how much scarier could it get?”

Phil laughs, squeezing his arms round Dan’s chest a little tighter and pressing his face into Dan’s neck. “That’s true, innit?”

“You’re tired of hiding yourself from them, right?” Dan asks. It’s rather a bold thing to say, but he needs Phil to listen now.

“Yeah.”

“So don’t worry about me. I’m having fun. Making this video with you was fun, and that’s exactly what I need right now.”

“Oh,” Phil says quietly, and maybe Dan is too busy pulling up Twitter and YouTube and bracing himself for the opinions of strangers to process the tone of Phil’s voice. “Fun. Yeah.”

“You ready?” Dan asks.

Phil just nods.

 

“They kind of love me, Phil.”

“I think they _really_ love you, actually,” Phil says, unhooking his legs from around Dan’s waist. “Maybe even more than they love me.”

Dan frowns to himself. He’s not entirely sure Phil’s joking. “Where are you going?” he asks, hating the loss of warmth as his backpack climbs clumsily off the sofa.

“Gotta shower,” Phil says.

He doesn’t ask Dan to join him, so Dan resists the urge to follow.

For about two minutes, after which his skin is crawling and he can’t endure the inexplicable feeling of unease that’s settling in his gut. He shuts the lid to Phil’s laptop a little more forcefully than necessary and makes his way to the bathroom.

He doesn’t knock, just opens the door and steps into the steam and says, “I’m using your toothbrush.”

Phil yelps a startled noise and then says, “That’s very unhygienic.”

Dan ignores him, squeezing toothpaste onto the brush and wetting it. “If I can lick your asshole I reckon it’s not a big deal for me to use your toothbrush.”

Phil peeks his head round the shower curtain, hair sudsy and eyes squinted in Dan’s direction. “You haven’t licked my asshole. Also you’re very vulgar.”

“I’m not,” Dan mumbles through a mouthful of foam. “And I plan to.”

“Plan to what?”

“Lick your asshole, of course.” He’s feigning apathy to the best of his ability, but he can’t help smirk at the way Phil’s cheeks go red at that.

“Oh yeah?” Phil’s not as good at nonchalance as Dan is, but Dan can tell he’s trying. “When?”

Dan spits into the sink and turns his whole body towards Phil, leaning back against the counter and trying to look casual. “Whenever you’ve finished faffing about in there, mate.”

 

He’s three knuckles deep and licking around his two fingers, Phil’s legs draped over his shoulders. The pillow wedged under Phil’s lower back is wet with spit and lube and his hand is buried in Dan’s curls. He tugs when Dan crooks his fingers and rubs in just the right spot.

Dan hadn’t noticed exactly when Phil had started slowly wanking himself, but he notices it now. “Stop that,” he croaks.

“No. Why? I can’t. Fuck you,” Phil babbles, squeezing hard around the head.

“That’s why,” Dan replies, slowly retracting his fingers despite Phil’s protesting whine. “Wanna fuck you.”

“Good. Do it. Doesn’t mean I have to stop wanking,” Phil says.

Dan smiles and it’s just for him because Phil’s eyes are closed, his head tilted back into his pillow.

“D’you want me to wear a condom?” Dan asks, settling himself sat on his haunches between Phil’s legs like he already knows the answer.

“Don’t care.” Phil’s hand hasn’t stopped working himself over for a moment.

Dan doesn’t want to wait a second longer. He pumps himself a few times to spread the slickness of his palm against his dick before grabbing Phil’s hip with his free hand and lining himself up.

“Better do it before you run out of time,” Phil teases.

Phil feels just as good like this as he does every other way and Dan makes sure Phil knows it. He tells him so every way he can think of, grunted and groaned and whispered until he comes deep inside and circles Phil’s fist with his own to get him off too.

“That was fun wasn’t it?” Phil whispers into Dan’s ear as they cuddle afterwards.

 

Dan hasn’t heard these old songs in years, and he’s never once listened to the new ones. This kind of music doesn’t speak to him anymore, doesn’t make him feel comforted and less misunderstood, but hearing it blasted into this arena at decibels that actually hurt his ears a little reminds him of a time when it did.

All it really does is remind him how many years have passed since. He feels older tonight, with the flashing lights in the darkness and the people crowded all around, the sound of guitars and Matt Bellamy’s voice and the screams of the excited fans knocking around in his skull. He feels a bit like an imposter, really. He’s not the same person he was when this would have been one of the greatest experiences of his life.

He has Phil though, right next to him, and that makes this whole thing feel fun. Less like a very loud and uncomfortable inconvenience and more like an adventure. Phil’s staring up at the stage with a smile on his face and something about being here in a place so far removed from anywhere they’ve ever been together makes Dan want to kiss him.

He bumps his shoulder into Phil’s and resolves to leave it at that because there are definitely fans here. Not just of the band but of Phil, as evidenced by the dozen selfies he’s been asked to take already. A few of the AmazingPhil admirers even ask if Dan could be in the photos as well, which is a lot less scary than he might have thought. It makes him feel included, like he and Phil are some kind of package deal already, even after only one video and some blurry fan creepshots.

So surely shoulder bumping is the most he can get away with in this place, with the potential of so many pairs of eyes scrutinizing his every move.

Phil bumps back, turning his gaze from the stage to Dan and smiling. He leans in, right in, his lips brushing up against the shell of Dan’s ear.

Maybe shoulder bumping was a conservative estimate of what Phil is ok with after all.

“I feel about eighteen again, what about you?”

Dan giggles, suddenly giddy on the proximity of Phil’s mouth and the smell of his cologne. Now he leans into Phil’s space, embracing the rush of adrenaline it gives him to ghost his lips against Phil’s earlobe as he whispers,“Actually I feel super old.”

Dan feels the warmth of someone else’s skin against his fingertips. He looks down in time to see Phil slipping his palm against Dan’s, squeezing his fingers around the back of Dan’s hand. He looks back up at Phil, his heart pounding.

Phil is grinning. “Wanna go do something stupid?”

Dan nods, squeezing back. He lets Phil lead the way, guiding Dan through the sweaty mass of bodies, away from the stage. Phil doesn’t seem to give a toss about who might see.

Dan has no idea what stupid means, but he couldn’t possibly be less bothered. He thinks he’d do just about anything Phil wanted right now.

 

Turns out what Phil wants to do is shove Dan up against the nearest wall and crush their mouths together. They’re not even that well hidden, stood in a dimly-lit corner by the toilets. Someone could— and honestly probably will— walk by at any moment.

Dan doesn’t care and Phil clearly doesn’t either. He’s leaning all his weight into Dan, pinning him up against painted white brick and sinking his tongue into Dan’s mouth with intent.

Dan can’t breathe, but he’s gripping the back of Phil’s neck and pulling him in closer, trying to match Phil’s intensity. The music is still loud but he can hear the wet smacks of their lips and their heavy breaths breathed out through their noses against each other’s faces. Phil’s hands grip Dan’s waist like a vice, pushing his shirt up to dig his nails into the skin.

It’s not pretty and Dan knows it, knows if he were to walk in on something like this he’d have a mind to tell the public snoggers off. But he’s not walking in on it, he’s living it, and it’s possibly the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.

Which is a thought he’s been having a lot ever since Phil came into his life, he realizes. Phil is fucking hot and everything they do together is fucking hot.

Phil kisses roughly up Dan’s jaw to his ear and bites down on the lobe. “If there weren’t people around I’d fuck you right here.”

Dan knows it’s not true, he knows it’s a line but his body reacts like it’s not. He slides his fingers up into Phil’s hair and tugs none too gently. He doesn’t have time to say anything before Phil’s tongue is in his ear and it’s wet and filthy and just this side of too much.

It makes Dan crazy though, his whole body erupting in shivers. Phil knows exactly what he’s doing, wedging his thigh in between Dan’s and pressing it up into the aching hardness in the crotch of Dan’s jeans.

Dan grinds down onto it without even giving himself permission to do it, pulling harder on Phil’s hair. “Fuck,” he groans. It feels better than stilted dry humping has any right to.

“Maybe I should anyway,” Phil growls. “Maybe I should just bend you over right here.”

Dan just grunts. It’s all so fast and nearly too overwhelming for him to fight, but he echoes Phil’s words from the other day because he’s not quite convinced Phil’s motives are entirely pure. “What’s got into you?”

“Just— want you.”

“You have—” Dan cuts himself off abruptly, hearing shrieks and shouts somewhere very close by.

Phil hears it too, backing up and pulling himself off of Dan’s body reluctantly just as a group of very excited girls rounds the corner. Dan presses his back against the wall and hopes they don’t look too suspicious.

When they’re alone again the space between them is thick with tension. Phil looks over at Dan after a beat, his teeth sunk into the bottom of his lip. “Can we get out of here?” he asks, only just loud enough for Dan to hear.

“Yeah, if you want. You alright?”

“Yeah. There’s just— I need to talk to you about something.”

Dan’s heart stutters nervously but Phil reaches out for his hand again.

 

The tube is sweaty and crowded and they can’t even get a spot together. Dan shoves his hands in his pockets and tries not to think the worst. His body rocks with the train and his arm is pressed up against a stranger’s and all he can see of Phil is scuffed white shoes, pale calves and knobby knees.

His ankles are bent awkwardly, one foot sat on top of the other.

Dan has to close his eyes. Suddenly the sight of those feet and those ankles and those legs is too much to bear.

 

He’s worked himself up imagining the worst by the time the cool relief of the late night breeze hits their faces as they come up from the underground, but Phil’s hand slips into Dan’s _again_ and he doesn’t know what to say.

He looks at Phil but Phil’s not looking back, he’s leading Dan toward home. Whose home Dan’s not sure but it’s all the same at this point anyway. His home is dusty and empty and holds nothing in the world he gives a damn about, while Phil’s has everything.

Phil’s has everything.

And now Dan’s panicking. Because Phil’s has everything, Phil _is_ everything, and that’s exactly what Dan’s been afraid of.

He can’t let Phil go. He can’t. But Phil can’t be everything. Phil can’t be the sole provider of everything in the world that Dan cares to live for.

He stops, drops Phil’s hand though it hurts him to do it. Phil stops too, turning back and looking at Dan with something like resignation.

Dan registers the look. He hates it and he doesn’t understand it but he sees it there, plain as the terror in his own gut that things are about to fall apart.

“What?” Phil chokes out before Dan can say anything.

“Sorry, I just— why are you looking at me like that?” Dan blurts.

“Like what?”

“Like… that.” He gestures his hand in the air in Phil’s direction.

“Why don’t you want to hold my hand?” Phil asks.

“Why’d you want to leave the concert?” Dan counters.

“I want to talk.”

Dan can feel his stomach drop. It’s visceral and literal and all wrong.

“What’s happening?” he murmurs. “What’s going on right now, I don’t—”

“Let’s go home,” Phil pleads. “Please.”

“I don’t— what does that even mean, Phil?”

“It doesn’t matter. Yours or mine it doesn’t matter I just want to be somewhere with you where everyone else isn’t. Please.”

Dan wants to be blunt. He wants Phil to be blunt. He wants to know why everything suddenly feels like it’s been flipped upside down. He wants to ask but he doesn’t, because Phil’s face is desperate and his hand pulls Dan forward and it doesn’t feel like something he can resist.

 

The ride up the lift to the eighteenth floor is excruciating. Instead of talking and reassurance there is silence. There is Phil gripping Dan’s hand so hard his thumb is starting to tingle.

Phil opens the door to Dan’s flat, maybe just because it’s a few feet closer and he knows it won’t be locked. He pulls Dan inside and pushes him up against the door the instant it shuts behind them. He kisses Dan hard, as if no time had passed between their stolen moment at the arena and now.

It’s not right but Dan can’t bring himself to ask Phil to stop because… he doesn’t want to. He wants this. He can feel how much Phil wants him and it makes no sense, this desperation, but it’s too good to push away.

Phil’s hands are unbuckling Dan’s belt and unzipping his fly and Dan’s mouth kisses Phil’s viciously, heat flooding his gut as Phil yanks on his jeans and his pants and follows them down.

He follows them down until he’s on his knees and Dan’s cock is in his mouth. It’s warm and wet as Phil takes him in all the way, right away, all in one go. Dan’s head thumps against the door and his hand cups the back of Phil’s head, fingers gripping silky hair as Phil sucks.

He makes an awful noise before he can stop himself and Phil just sucks harder. Dan pushes Phil’s head down, barely even aware he’s doing it until Phil makes an awful noise of his own and pulls off.

“Sorry,” Dan grunts but Phil just sinks right back down and swallows.

It’s over in a matter of minutes. Dan never had a chance against that onslaught, shuddering and whimpering as he comes in Phil’s mouth.

He slumps back against the door and Phil is right there, stood up again and cradling his arms loosely around Dan’s waist and pressing tender kisses to Dan’s neck.

Dan opens his eyes and sees the sad emptiness of his flat and the thought returns, stronger than ever, that he has nothing here. Nothing but a bed and a plant, and it terrifies him anew because Phil feels so fucking good, even just like this, and he can’t let himself do this again. He can’t let Phil be another Liv, another wonderful thing he lets consume his entire being until he doesn’t know who he is anymore.

“Phil,” he croaks, pushing gently on Phil’s shoulders until his lips come away from Dan’s neck. “Phil.”

“What?” His voice is flat.

“I need furniture.”

“What?”

“I need to buy some furniture.”

Phil pulls away, steps back. “Oh.” He turns around and walks away, over to Dan’s bed, where he sits.

Of course. Because Dan has no fucking furniture.

Dan kicks off his jeans and pulls up his pants and stumbles on wobbly legs to join a worryingly dejected-looking Phil on his bed.

“I understand,” Phil murmurs. He sounds too despondent for his words to make any sense to Dan.

“What d’you mean?” Dan asks.

Phil shuffles over and lies down on the far side of the bed. He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, Dan. I get it.”

Dan wastes no time settling himself down right on Phil’s lap, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down against the pillow. Phil’s eyes widen but he doesn’t resist.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dan asks. “Why are you being so bloody strange today?”

“I wanted to ask you something but… I don’t think I need to anymore.”

Dan frowns. “Because I want to buy furniture?”

Phil nods.

“That makes no sense.”

Phil sighs. “It’s just something you said the other day.”

“Phil,” Dan says firmly. “Tell me or I will be forced to kill you.”

Phil turns his head, looks off into the distance across Dan’s flat. Dan releases his grip on Phil’s wrists, his heart pounding wildly now.

“You said you’re just having fun with me and that’s what you need and like… I thought it was more but I understand. That’s all it was ever supposed to be anyway so—”

“Phil, shut the fuck up, please.”

Phil still doesn’t turn his head, but he reaches up and pushes his glasses back down onto his nose.

“Look at me you fucking turnip,” Dan says. He hopes Phil will laugh, but he doesn’t. He does look up though.

“I never said the word just,” Dan says quickly. “I said I’m having fun. It was meant to be a reassurance, not me pushing you away. You’re exactly what I want, Phil.”

“For now,” Phil whispers.

“No. That’s not me. I don’t do that.”

“But you want furniture.”

Dan nods. “I told you, I have to be my own person. I can’t just like, move in with you and attach myself like a fucking… barnacle or something.”

Phil snickers and Dan feels the iron fist clenched around his heart loosen a little.

“I mean, you can if you want,” Phil says, the hint of a smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

Dan smiles back to soften the words he wishes he didn’t have to say. “I can’t let myself do exactly what I want. It’s not good for me. I need to have some discipline for once in my life.”

He reaches down to stroke his thumb over the sharp jut of Phil’s cheekbone. “I’m saying this _because_ of how much I want you. You get it right?”

“It’s not just fun?” Phil asks.

“It’s fun, but it’s not _just_ fun. I thought we were on the same page here.”

Phil groans and hides his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. Ugh, I’m sorry. I feel so stupid, it’s just…”

Dan pulls Phil’s hands away from his face so they can look at each other, but he waits for Phil to finish his thought.

“I guess I was still afraid the video stuff was gonna scare you away.”

“And it didn’t,” Dan says simply.

Phil smiles. “It didn’t. And you need a sofa.”

“And a telly.”

“Definitely a telly. And maybe even a bed frame?”

“Let’s not get crazy,” Dan chuckles.

Phil reaches his arms up and out. “C’mere please.”

They arrange themselves on the bed together and Dan burrows into Phil’s body, relishing the feeling of safety at Phil’s arms wrapped around him. “We’re kind of shit at communicating, Phil,” he murmurs.

Phil nods. “Definitely something to work on.”

“Do you think we use sex to try to ignore our problems?” Dan blurts as soon as the thought’s popped into his head.

Phil makes a noise like all the air’s been punched from his lungs.

“Sorry,” Dan mutters. “Probably could’ve worded that a little more… diplomatically.”

“We don’t have problems, do we?” Phil asks quietly.

Dan reaches up to pull Phil’s face to his. He kisses him softly, lingeringly, pulling back and leaning in again and trying to convey with his lips all the happy, mushy things he feels on the inside. “Nothing we can’t figure out together,” he murmurs after he pulls back. “We just have to talk to each other.”

Phil nods. “Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees, and then he chuckles. “You know, you sound kind of like a therapist. Or at least definitely someone who _sees_ a therapist.”

Dan squeezes Phil tighter, pulling him in as close as is physically possible. “I just fucking hate that you thought…”

“It’s my fault. I should’ve just asked you right away,” Phil says. “Which reminds me… are you still up for being in my next liveshow?”

“Course.”

“Ok. Maybe we can do it— fuck. Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Dan asks, tilting his head back to look up at Phil. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, mate.”

“Sorry it’s just— how soon would you be able to take a few days off work?”

“Uhh, soon, I’m sure. Why?”

“You can’t introduce yourself officially to the internet before I introduce you to my mum.”

Dan pushes his face into Phil’s chest, smelling the hint of sweat and cologne that clings to his t-shirt. “You wanna take me home to your mum?” he mumbles.

Phil ignores Dan’s question in favour of asking one of his own. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you my boyfriend?”

Dan laughs, spluttering in a giddy kind of surprise.

“Just, you know, in the spirit of properly communicating…” Phil adds.

Dan shakes his head fondly. “Yes, Phil. I’m your boyfriend.”


	23. Chapter 23

“This is stupid.” Dan’s laid on his back, starfished out across his sheets. His bed feels too big now that he’s all alone in it. 

“It’s not,” Phil argues. “It’s important. You said so yourself.”

“Yeah, but like… you shouldn’t listen to me. I’m stupid.”

“Yeah, you are. But this isn’t.”

“Oi.” Dan tries to sound rightfully indignant.

Phil giggles. Dan can hear it tickling in his ear as if they were right next to each other. They would be, if it weren’t for Dan and his well-intentioned insistence that he maintain some semblance of time and space that’s just for him. 

Though they’ve been on the phone with each other all night anyway, so maybe the point is already moot. 

“You’re the worst boyfriend I’ve ever had,” Dan says.

“But also the best, yeah?” Phil asks. He’s still laughing.

“Yeah. Which is why you should get your ass over here.”

“Nope, sorry. I’m naked and we’ve spent the last three nights together. You need your alone time.”

“Alone time is overrated as fuck. And don’t tell me you’re naked, that just makes it worse.”

“Are you not fully sick of me yet?” Phil asks.

“Shut up Lester or I’ll be forced to come over there and show you just how not sick of you I really am.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” 

Dan sighs, pulling his phone away from his ear and putting it on speaker so he can burrow down into his duvet. “If I get a hobby will you let me sleep with you every night?”

“I mean, I think that’s really up to you. I’d be happy to have you here with me all the time,” Phil says softly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know. It’s just like… it’s hard. Because what makes me happy right now is you.”

“Yeah,” Phil murmurs, probably for no other reason than to show Dan that he’s listening.

“But that can’t be everything,” Dan continues.

“Yeah.”

Dan is repeating himself. They’ve been talking about it a lot, or at least Dan feels like he has. He’s been repeating this sentiment over and over, and not just inside his own head anymore. He keeps expecting Phil to tell him to shut up, that he gets it already, that Dan is a broken record, skipping over the same boring song day after day. 

Of course Phil’s said no such thing, and neither has Dan’s therapist. He’s still working on coming up with solutions, but he thinks talking about it is as good a first step as any. Awareness and willingness to try have to count for something.

And Phil seems more than willing to listen, and to try to go along with whatever Dan decides he needs. He’s definitely cursing himself for deciding maybe it was best if they spent one night a week in separate beds, though.

“You still good with tomorrow?” Phil asks.

“Of course. I’m scared as hell but I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I don’t think there’s any family less deserving of your fear than mine, trust me. My mum can’t wait to meet you.” 

“That’s why I’m scared. Expectations are scary.”

“She doesn’t have expectations. She just wants to meet the person who makes her son so happy.”

Dan groans quietly, pressing his face into his pillow. “I don’t know why that just makes it feel scarier.”

“Ok well think of this instead. After you’ve met them all and we hang out for a bit you and I can go to bed. Together.”

Dan smiles. “Ok that definitely makes it-- wait,” he cuts himself off. “What d’you mean met them all? How many people am I meeting?”

“Oh, um. Shit. I forgot to tell you. Martyn and Cornelia are gonna be there too.”

“Phi-il,” Dan whines. 

“Sorry! They all just really want to meet you.” 

“Do they all know…?” 

“Um. Yeah. Sorry,” Phil mutters.

“Don’t be. I’m glad they do. At least I don’t have to worry about… that. They’re fine with it?” 

“Yeah. They’ve had many years to come to terms. I’ve never really brought home a boyfriend though, so--”

“Oh god.”

“It’ll be fine,” Phil assures him. “It’ll be fine. I’m just… curious, y’know, how they’ll be. Probably awkward.”

“Should I pretend I’m still a lawyer?” Dan’s joking, but also kind of not.

Phil doesn’t laugh. “You shouldn’t pretend anything. Not for them and not for anyone. You should be exactly who you are.”

“But who I am is a mess. I want them to like me.”

“You’re not a mess, you’re just human. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like they were thrilled when I told them I turned down an internship at a production company to do frickin YouTube.”

“But they are now?” Dan asks.

“If I’m perfectly honest I think it’s another thing they just had to come to terms with. They support me, and they’re happy because they know I’m happy, but it’s not like they really  _ get _ it, y’know?”

“Wait-- you turned down an internship at a production company? Like, for films?”

Phil chuckles. “Yeah.”

“Wow, mate. You’ve got balls.”

“I mean… I did. I don’t know if I do anymore. Maybe that’s my problem.”

“You don’t have any problems. Shut up,” Dan says playfully. “Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that.”

Phil laughs again and it’s a lower sound, something more intimate and Dan is reminded again how stupid it is that they’re not together right now. 

“You’re having fun with this aren’t you?” Phil asks, voice soft and low. “This whole boyfriend thing. Or are you just mocking me?”

“I’m not mocking you. I’m definitely having fun with it. I’m having fun with you.”

“But not just fun,” Phil clarifies, but Dan can tell he’s just taking the piss.

“I thought I told you to shut up, Lester.”

“Sorry. Shutting up now.”

“Good. And while you’re in the mood to listen: come over here.”

Phil sighs. “You’re the worst boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“But also the best, right?” Dan asks, smiling against his pillow.

“Yeah.”

Phil doesn’t come over, because, in fact, he’s not a bad boyfriend at all. He’s a very very good one. They stay up way too late just talking and giggling on the phone. So late that Phil eventually falls asleep and Dan listens to his gentle breathing for a few minutes before hanging up. 

Dan doesn’t get much sleep in the end. No amount of reassurance from Phil could stop him being nervous about this particular trip, and without the solid weight of Phil’s body next to his it takes him a lot longer than usual to quiet all the thoughts that buzz in his mind. 

 

He wakes up when he hears his front door shut and footsteps approaching. He wakes but he doesn’t move from his den beneath the sheets. If it’s a murderer they’re going to have an easy target, because Dan can’t muster up the energy to so much as lift his head. He grunts when he feels the bed dip in the space next to him. 

“Wake up,” Phil coos.

Dan just grunts.

“I brought you a cappuccino.”

That gets Dan’s attention. He peeks his head out from underneath the duvet and squints his heavy-lidded eyes in the direction of the beautiful white cloud of Phil-shaped blur sat beside him.

Phil smiles. Dan hauls himself up to sitting, accepting the white Starbucks cup Phil hands to him.

“Best boyfriend,” Dan croaks.

“Mhm,” Phil hums. “Move over.”

They sit side by side on Dan’s bed, leaned back against the wall with their knees pulled up, fingers intertwined and drinking their coffees in warm comforting silence. 

“You nervous?” Phil asks after a while, stroking Dan’s thumb with his own. 

“Yeah.”

Phil lays his head down on Dan’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’re going to love you just as much as I do.”

Dan’s heart rate spikes. He turns his head to look down at Phil, expecting to find an expression of awkwardness or even regret. 

Phil is smiling. He looks a little cheeky but certainly not like he’s said something he wishes he hadn’t. 

Dan smiles back. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not quite sure how, but he does press a kiss to Phil’s forehead. 

He can’t say anything. He thinks his heart might actually burst if he does. 

 

The train journey feels much longer than the two hours that it actually is. They spend most of that time with Phil’s earphones split between them, listening to ‘90s pop songs with their shoulders pressed together. Dan stares out the window and Phil stares at his phone.

“Literally everyone is just asking me when I’m gonna do the liveshow,” Phil says, shaking his head at the screen.

“You  _ have _ kept them waiting a long time,” Dan replies.

“Would you maybe wanna do it, like, tonight?” Phil asks.

Dan just shrugs. He has absolutely no space in his mind for thoughts of apprehension about Phil’s audience. “We can do it whenever you want.”

“Tonight then.” Phil sounds resolute. “Although there’s a possibility we may be drunk.”

Dan quirks an eyebrow. “We getting sloshed with your parents?”

“And Martyn and Cornelia,” Phil adds almost timidly.

“I hadn’t forgotten, though I was kind of trying to.”

Phil grins. “Sorry.”

Dan waves his hand in the air dismissively. “I’ll survive. Right?”

“You will,” Phil assures. “I find it really strange that you’re more scared of four people who are already guaranteed to like you than like, thousands who could very well be assholes.”

“There’s no guarantee,” Dan says, “There are plenty of ways I could screw up. And anyway, I’ve got nothing to lose with the others.”

Phil puts his hand on Dan’s thigh. Dan notices that he hadn’t even checked first to see if anyone was looking. 

“You’ve got nothing to lose either way,” Phil says softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

It’s Martyn who picks them up at the train station, for which Dan is grateful. Brothers are less scary than mothers, and Martyn is definitely not an imposing figure. He’s slightly shorter than Phil and his voice is gentle. He looks just like Phil while somehow simultaneously looking absolutely nothing like him. But there’s something there, something in the way he smiles that sparks some recognition for Dan, something that endears Martyn to him before they’ve even spoken more than a few words to each other.

Cornelia is there too. She’s tiny and soft-spoken as well, her hair a mop of fiery red curls, her smile warm and infectious. She has to stand on the tips of her toes to reach her arms up and give him a hug, but it’s still firmer and more enveloping than he would have thought her capable. 

Phil begs Martyn to let him do the driving, but Martyn acts horrified by even the idea. 

“Is he that bad?” Dan asks, chuckling. 

Cornelia nods, her eyes wide as if remembering some past horror.

“Worse, actually,” Martyn replies.

The three of them talk non-stop on the drive from Manchester to Rawtenstall, bonding over music while Phil whinges that he’s not even heard of most of the artists they’re talking about. Dan moves the backpack that sits between them to the side and scoots over, throwing his arm over Phil’s shoulders after strapping the seat belt across his waist. Phil smiles and drops his head down onto Dan’s shoulder.

Dan feels decidedly younger than his twenty six years in this moment. “Ok?” he asks under his breath, because they hadn’t really discussed what level of openness was ok in front of family.

Phil nods, reaching his hand up to hold Dan’s, pulling Dan’s arm around him a little tighter.

“Oi, no mushy stuff back there you lot,” Martyn teases. Cornelia swats at his arm and tells him to shut up.

 

Dan forgets to be nervous until Martyn’s pulling the car into the driveway of a rather large house on a quiet old street at the top of a hill. He forgets to be nervous until the engine shuts off and he remembers that he’s about to meet Phil’s parents. He’s about to meet the people who raised his favourite person, and the nerves come rushing right back. Despite Phil’s assurances, Dan knows there’s always the potential for him to come across unlikeable. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Liv’s parents were never overly fond of him despite years of trying to mold himself into the shape of someone who was worthy of their daughter. 

Phil holds his hand as they walk up the drive to the front door and the cool of his fingers pressing into the warmth of Dan’s are enough to pull him from those thoughts back into the present. 

“Don’t screw this up, Danny boy,” Phil says, voice deadpan. “I like having a boyfriend.” 

Dan narrows his eyes and gives Phil a sideways glance before Phil breaks out into a big goofy grin and Dan can’t help laughing out the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders. 

“Fuck off,” Dan says.

“Child!” A small woman with Phil’s face and a warm smile is on the porch, her arms outstretched. Phil drops Dan’s hand and goes to her, letting her envelop him in a truly motherly embrace. 

“Hi mum,” Phil murmurs, hugging her shoulders.

She pulls away after just a moment, saying, “Oh god, how rude of me. Dan, right?” She swats at Phil for an introduction. 

“Dan, mum, mum, Dan.”

“Hello Mrs. Lester.” Dan puts on the Winnie the Pooh poshness of his childhood without even meaning to, knowing instantly Phil will take the piss out of him for it later.

Her own accent is thicker even than he’d been anticipating. “Call me Kath. Come here, love.” She motions him forward with her hands and as soon as he’s stepped close enough she pulls him in for a hug of his own. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” he jokes, hugging back despite the strangeness of it all. It’s nice, a good kind of strange, but still. He’s not used to this level of affection from his own mum let alone someone else’s.

“Don’t rat me out, mum,” Phil teases.

“All good things,” she says, ignoring Phil completely. “Come inside you lot, I made tea.”

 

Dan doesn’t screw it up. In fact he’s not sure things could have gone better. It probably has more to do with how wonderful the Lesters are and less to do with how charming he is himself, but he’ll take it. He’ll take whatever allows for him to sit by Phil’s side nestled in among the treasured members of Phil’s family and see nothing but smiling faces. 

They start with tea-- and biscuits, because apparently there actually  _ are _ mums who bake things from scratch just for fun. Phil introduces Dan to his dad and they all sit down together and chat until it’s late enough to eat. 

By the grace of some higher power that Dan doesn’t even believe in, it all feels so easy. These people genuinely enjoy each other’s company enough to sit around a table and do nothing but simply talk to each other, share stories about what’s happening in their lives and listen to each other attentively without looking at their phones or trying to find the first excuse to slip away. It’s so different from Dan’s experience with his own family that it’s almost jarring at first. 

But as time goes on he allows himself to relax. They’re not interrogating him, not quizzing him on topics he doesn’t have good answers for-- they aren’t even really putting all that much focus on him at all. He just feels… included. Like he was always meant to be there. Like he’s already a part of the family. Any questions that come are asked when it makes sense and he never feels like he’s being sized up. 

Maybe it has something to do with the way Phil is looking at him. He can’t pretend he doesn’t notice, and he guesses everyone else is noticing it too. Maybe they’re noticing that there’s rarely a moment where Phil doesn’t have a hand on Dan’s thigh or an arm slung over his shoulders. Maybe they’re noticing that every story Phil tells begins with the words ‘me and Dan.’

Maybe they’re noticing that Dan can’t help looking at Phil like that too. 

After they eat Kath pulls out Monopoly and Martyn pulls out two giant bottles of wine. Dan’s cheeks are warm and his veins buzzing by the time he has to excuse himself to use the toilet.

He needs a wee, but it’s actually more than that. He needs to get away for a moment, to be alone with his thoughts now that the alcohol has them flowing a little more freely, a little less filtered of emotion. It’s lovely, this togetherness, but it’s also a little overwhelming. It tugs at something sad inside his chest that he doesn’t quite understand, but he knows he needs a minute or two of quiet.

He turns back to look at the table of laughing people before he leaves the room, eyes lingering on the way Kath’s hand finds a temporary home between Phil’s shoulders blades. It’s comfortable and casual and spikes a feeling of loss in Dan’s chest, a feeling of missing out on something he hadn’t realized he’d been wanting.

He pulls his phone from his pocket once he’s shut the bathroom door behind him, presses it to his ear and listens to the ringing on the other end once he’s pulled up the number he’s looking for. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say but he knows somehow he still has to try to say it.

“Hello?” It’s been too long since he’s heard her voice. He needs to be better.

“Mum.”

“Daniel,” she replies, nonplussed. 

“Hi mum.”

“What’s up love?”

He closes the lid on the toilet and sits down. “Nothing.”

“Oh, right,” she says, somewhat sarcastically he thinks but he can’t be sure. “Sounds fun.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… how are you, then?” she asks after slightly too long a pause. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’m in Manchester,” Dan blurts.

“Oh, are you? Are you— you’re not visiting…?” 

“Huh?”

“Are you visiting Liv?” she asks gently.

“Oh. Right.” Perhaps he’s a little more tipsy than he’d thought. Of course that’s what she would think. “No. I’m at Phil’s place. Like Phil’s family home.”

“Wow,” she murmurs. “Wow. So. Things are… progressed.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re meeting his parents before I even know you’re… dating, I assume?”

He nods before remembering that she can’t see him. “Yeah, sorry. Sorry, mum.”

“Is that why you’re calling?”

“Uhh…” He thinks he should probably say yes but he’s honestly not sure. He’s not sure why he’d called exactly, only that seeing Phil with his family had given him the intense desire to reconnect with his own. “I dunno. Just wanted to talk to you I guess.”

“Are you drunk, young man?” she asks.

“Yeah. A little.”

She chuckles. “I don’t think people usually drunk dial their mothers, Daniel.”

“I just… I dunno. I love you, mum.”

The other end of the line is dead silent long enough that he thinks the call has been dropped.

“I love you too, Bear.”

Oh. Oh. She hasn’t called him that in years.

Too many years. He’s been shutting her out for too long. 

“Can I bring Phil down sometime soon?”

Her voice has gone soft and quiet when she answers and he doesn’t think he’s imagining it. “I’d like that.”

He’s smiling to himself, his throat a little scratchy. “K. Thanks. I think I should probably get back… we’re playing Monopoly.”

She laughs a proper laugh. “Who are you and what have you done with my son?”

 

“I told you, didn’t I? I told you they weren’t scary.”

“Shut up,” Dan mutters, dropping back onto Phil’s bed. It creaks something awful under the weight of him.

Phil lies down next to him and they both dangle their feet over the edge of the mattress. It’s late and the combination of sleep deprivation and too many glasses of wine is making Dan’s eyelids droop. He fumbles his leg clumsily to drape overtop of Phil’s.  

“I’m sleepy,” he murmurs. “And maybe a bit pissed.”

Phil chuckles, his hand finding its way to rest on the inside of Dan’s thigh. “Me too.”

Dan’s not drunk or tired enough not to immediately respond to Phil touching him like that, though, especially after not having access to his body in the ways he’d like for almost two days. He hitches his leg up higher, hoping Phil gets the hint. 

“We don’t have to do the liveshow tonight, do we?” 

“D’you not want to anymore?” Phil asks, even as he slips his hand up under the bottom of Dan’s shorts and strokes his fingers against the sensitive skin there.

Dan’s eyelids flutter shut. “Definitely not right now.” He wants to go back in time and kiss himself for being too lazy to put on underwear this morning. Phil’s already managed to work his hand up to Dan’s still mostly soft cock. 

“Tomorrow?” Phil wraps his hand around and squeezes, tugging gently at the soft wrinkled skin.

“Mhm,” Dan hums. All the mental capacity he has left is focused on the feeling of his dick swelling quickly with blood under Phil’s attention. The bed creaks again and Phil’s lips are on Dan’s neck.

“Your bed is stupid,” Dan says. “Everyone’s going to be able to hear us.”

“Lucky them.” Phil pulls his hand out of Dan’s shorts and Dan doesn’t even have time to be disappointed before Phil’s fingers are curling around the waistband.

“You’re not bothered?” Dan asks, lifting his hips to help Phil get them off.

“The only thing I’m bothered about right now is getting you naked.”

Dan grins, shivering as Phil latches on in just the right spot. “I think you’re secretly an exhibitionist, Phil.”

“What gave that away?” Phil whispers into Dan’s ear. “Aquarium toilet blowjobs?”

“I called my mum today,” Dan blurts. It’s random and sudden and inappropriate for the moment and he regrets it instantly, but his rational brain has taken leave of him for the night, apparently.

Phil pulls back a little. “Oh?”

“I told her I want her to meet you.”

“Technically she already has.”

“Yeah, I know but… for real this time.”

Phil’s answering smile is blinding and he echoes the sentiment of Dan’s mum’s words from earlier. “I’d love that.”

“Ok. Good.”

More creaking as Phil rolls over and spreads his legs to straddle Dan’s hips. He pulls Dan’s shirt from the bottom and Dan lifts his arms. Now he’s naked and Phil is still fully clothed and it feels cheeky and hot like they’re getting away with something they shouldn’t.

Phil puts his hands on Dan’s chest. “Will you shut up and let me pleasure you now, please?”

Dan laughs, and nods. He can definitely do that. 

 

They’re sat cross legged next to each other on obnoxiously fluorescent green carpet. Their knees are pressed together, but that’s out of the frame of Phil’s laptop that sits across from them on top of a stack of old linguistics textbooks. 

They haven’t gone live yet, but Phil is working on it. Dan’s heart is beating too fast for comfort, his stomach twisted up with nervous anticipation. He hadn’t been nervous before, hadn’t thought he’d be nervous now, but he is.

This isn’t about him. It’s not his place to be nervous, he tells himself. He has absolutely nothing to lose here, and Phil has everything. Not really, but he knows that’s how Phil feels, that his career and public perception teeter on a precipice. That the threat of pushing them over the edge is very real in this moment.

At least, that’s what he thinks Phil thinks. Maybe they still have some work to do on the communication front, but he doesn’t want to stress Phil out. He’s here now and willing to go along with whatever Phil wants. Their knees press together and that’s the truth, regardless of whatever happens on the screen of Phil’s computer. Regardless of whatever word Phil chooses to use when he introduces Dan officially to his audience. 

Phil turns to him. “Ready?”

Dan nods. 

 

His legs are open and Phil sits between them, leaned back against Dan’s chest. Their view is a wash of trees and pastel clouds, the sky streaked pink and blue like candy floss. There are houses and shops and streets in the distance, made small from their spot atop the hill. 

It’s hot outside again, the air thick as they sit in Phil’s garden and watch the sun set over this sleepy little town. Phil’s neck is tacky where Dan’s cheek presses against it and it brings him back to that first time on Phil’s sofa, the first time they touched each other and the day Dan’s life took a turn for the better. 

That sweaty moment led them to this one, to Dan holding a slightly shaky Phil in his arms and feeling no qualms about kissing behind his ear and whispering, “I’m proud of you.”

They’d left their phones inside, turned off and shoved down to the bottom of their backpacks. They’ve shared enough with the world tonight. Phil had shared enough and Dan had been there to smile and bear witness to an act of bravery that moved him near to tears. 

In truth Dan thinks Phil has shared enough for a lifetime, but certainly for now he’s earned the right to shut the rest of the world out. 

Now is for them. Just them, to sit together in quiet and stillness and watch the sky grow dark.

“Was that ok?” Phil’s voice is too small for Dan’s liking. 

“Yeah,” Dan says, squeezing him a little tighter. “It was ok, Phil. It was good.”

“No going back now,” he murmurs, reaching up and hooking his fingers loosely around Dan’s forearm.

“Would you want to?”

Phil turns his head to look at Dan. “Would you?”

Dan’s answer is emphatic. “Never.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Phil insists. “I’m done hiding.”

“You weren’t hiding--”

“Not from them. From myself,” Phil says. 

“Good,” Dan murmurs, tilting his head to the side and kissing Phil’s neck. It tastes like salt and again he is reminded of a time when Phil was just an intoxicating sort of mystery. An enigma. A stranger.

“I’m done hiding too,” Dan says and Phil nods, because he already knows. They’re both done hiding, from the world, from themselves, and from each other and they both know it. 

Phil leans forward then, pushes himself up to stand and turns around, reaching out a hand for Dan to take. He pulls Dan up and holds his face in his hands so gently, like it’s the most precious thing in the world to him. He leans in and kisses him and it’s nothing like the first time. It’s nothing like an enigma or a mystery, because there’s absolutely nothing left to hide. This kiss is comfort and warmth and familiarity, because they know each other now. 

They’re not strangers anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end :)


	24. Epilogue

He says yes in a moment of weakness, when they’re in their most natural of states, naked between the sheets and tangled up in each other, coming down from the high of togetherness that still shocks him sometimes with its power.

They’re good together. That’s the the thing. 

Dan knows it. Phil knows it. But Phil’s desire for them to be close is pure, and Dan’s is muddied by past mistakes and the fear of repeating them. Phil has no reason not to trust his instincts, and Dan has more reasons than he knows what to do with.

But being ten seconds post orgasm makes him weak. His defenses are down, on the floor scattered somewhere amongst the clothes Phil had pulled off of him twenty minutes ago. 

So when Phil hasn’t even pulled out yet and he’s kissing Dan’s mouth and saying, “Move in with me,” for at least the three hundred and sixty fifth time, Dan doesn’t think twice before whispering his answer against Phil’s lips.

“Yes.”

It’s not the answer he’s given every single day for the past year, which is why Phil holds him tighter after he says it, crushes his arms around Dan’s body and rolls them over so Dan’s on top, why he kisses Dan’s face everywhere like an overexcited puppy. 

It’s the answer Dan’s been _wanting_ to give since day one, and the one he’s still terrified to give now. But again, Phil makes him weak.

It’s their anniversary. Or at least, the day they’ve chosen as their anniversary, the day Phil came out to a stream of about ten thousand people. The day Phil introduced Dan to the world at large as his boyfriend. 

Dan really hadn’t meant for the timing of it, but he pretends he had. He pretends for Phil like his doubts are gone, because he wishes they were. He pretends it’s a sappy gift to celebrate a year of the kind of happiness Dan could never have dreamed would ever belong to him. 

He wants to live with Phil more than he’s ever wanted anything, and that’s why he’s so terrified to actually do it.

-

“You have a hundred already.”

“Yeah but we need one _together_ ,” Phil insists, lifting up a giant green leaf with the flat of his palm like he’s weighing something very important. There’s a crease between his brows as he drops it back down and shakes his head.

“What about the one you gave me?” Dan asks. “That’s together.”

Phil shakes his head. “That’s yours.”

“Can I bring it? I’m pretty attached to it.” He smiles when Phil looks over at him. “Sentimental value, y’know?”

Phil smiles back, reaching out and tugging Dan closer with a handful of his t-shirt. He kisses Dan square on the mouth. “Course you can bring it,” he murmurs. “It’s part of the family.”

Maybe he can do this, Dan thinks, pushing Phil away fondly and standing back a moment as Phil wanders off toward a plant with polka dots on its leaves. Phil calls him his family. What kind of idiot would resist this?

-

Maybe the kind of idiot who happened to lose all notion of what it meant to be himself the last time. Maybe the kind of idiot who can’t seem to grasp the concept of balance, of moderation, of a happy medium between all or nothing.

What difference will it really make? They spend more nights together than they do apart. They have keys to each others’ flats. Half of the clothes in Dan’s wardrobe technically belong to Phil, and vice versa. They’ve met each other’s parents. Dan spent Christmas with Phil in Rawtenstall. 

They’re as together as two people can be. This is really the last step they can take that doesn’t involve rings or the pitter patter of little feet, and all it really means is paying one rent instead of two. If anything it just means they’re being pragmatic.

And yet he can’t seem to quiet a small voice in the back of his head that tells him it’s too soon - Liv’s voice.

Sometimes it feels like the universe had already decided the moment he met her that she’d always have a hold on him, one way or another. 

He rarely dreams about her now, and he makes a conscious effort never to include her in his fantasies. The vice grip of curly dark hair and paint speckled fingers no longer has a hold on his heart.

Now it’s just on his head. Where once it convinced him he’d never be happy without her, now it makes him doubt that the happiness he does feel is entirely safe.

His nature tells him to dive in, to burrow down into this thing with Phil and throw caution to the wind. Caution really isn’t who he is. But then he remembers her and he tells himself he has to try. He has to—

“Dan?”

Dan looks over to see Phil rubbing his eyes sleepily in the darkness. 

“That’s me,” Dan says, rolling onto his side to face the sleepy lump of cute next to him.

“Why’re you awake?” Phil mumbles, reaching for him and pulling him in close. “Are you ok?”

“Just thinking.”

“Mm, bad idea.” He yawns. “ Always a bad idea.”

Dan chuckles, pushing at Phil’s shoulder gently to turn him around. Phil goes easily as he’s mostly still asleep and Dan spoons against his back and kisses the nape of his neck where his hair is starting to grow out from the last time he got it cut.

“I’m ok,” Dan says quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

“You too,” Phil says, yawning again. 

“I will, I promise.”

Phil is quiet long enough that Dan thinks he’s fallen back to sleep and is startled to hear him ask, “Are you thinking bad things?”

“No,” Dan says automatically.

“Are you having doubts?”

Dan takes a little longer to answer that one. He doesn’t like lying to Phil and he’s hoping he can find a way to frame the situation in a way that’s truthful but not painful for Phil to hear.

“Not doubts,” he says quietly. “Just thoughts.”

“Should we talk about them?” Phil asks.

“No.” He kisses Phil’s shoulder. “We should definitely sleep now.”

“But we’ll talk later.”

Dan nods. He rather hopes Phil doesn’t remember this conversation in the morning. None of his thoughts have anything to do with not wanting all the things Phil wants, and he’s not convinced he can explain himself properly if he tries.

“I love you, y’know,” Phil says softly.

“I know.”

Phil pushes back against Dan with his ass and Dan laughs softly, reaching a hand into Phil’s pjs to scratch through coarse hair and lay his palm flat against it. If he had the energy he’d move lower and distract them both, but he doesn’t. Suddenly he’s tired and he knows Phil is too.

“I love you too,” he says and closes his eyes.

-

Morning brings the energy he hadn’t had last night to touch Phil the way he likes to be touched, but not before he wakes up to Phil touching him.

“You know,” Phil whispers in his ear with that deep dark morning voice Dan loves so much, “when you move in here properly we can do this every single day.”

Dan’s in no position to argue, currently. He’s already curling his toes and pulling his own hair. “Fuck,” he grunts when Phil twists his wrist in a particularly pleasing way. “Yeah.”

He’s not in a position to argue afterwards either, when he’s in the shower and Phil is stood at the sink in nothing but his boxers when Dan pulls the curtain back, face lathered up with foam and a razor in his hand. 

Why would he argue? Sharing space with Phil just feels right. It’s easy in a way nothing ever has been before. He grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist and comes over to stand beside him. They smile at each other in the mirror and Dan recalls with fondness a time in their very early days when he’d taken the razor from Phil’s hand and done the job for him.

“Want me to do that?” he asks, bumping his hip into Phil’s.

Phil shakes his head. “You do a shit job.”

“Oi.”

“You do!” he squawks defensively. “You always leave stubble.”

“Maybe I like you scruffy.” He watches Phil drag the blade along the line of his jaw and inwardly mourns the loss of scratchy hair for a day or two.

“You like kissing sandpaper,” Phil murmurs. He’s got his concentration face on.

“Yup.”

What he likes is the way Phil’s scruff reminds him in the heated moments that Phil is definitely not Liv.

Maybe that’s a little fucked up. It probably is, but it’s Dan’s brain and he can’t help that his thoughts are a little fucked up sometimes. He’s trying to learn how to love the things that make him _him _, and he reckons for better or worse that the occasional fucked up thought process is an integral characteristic.__

__He grabs his toothbrush and runs some cold water over it._ _

__He has a toothbrush here, nestled in amongst Phil’s toiletries. How different will it really be to call this place his? For all intents and purposes it already is._ _

__“We should film today,” Phil says, rinsing the foam off his razor as Dan squeezes toothpaste onto his brush. “It’s been a while.”_ _

__Dan nods. “Tonight?” he suggests. “I have therapy later.”_ _

__“Oh. We can wait. If you’re tired after.”_ _

__Dan shoves the brush in his mouth and starts scrubbing. Sometimes the rush of emotion Phil’s kindness inspires in him is frightening._ _

__“We’ll just see,” Dan says, voice garbled. “K?”_ _

__Phil nods. He sets down his razor, turns on the water and leans down to rinse off the leftover bits of white._ _

__“I could film something for my channel instead,” he says after, taking the towel from around Dan’s waist to pat his face dry._ _

__“Hey,” Dan says without conviction and Phil smirks._ _

__“I like the view.”_ _

__“I like your mum’s view.” Dan snatches his towel back to restore his dignity, not that he actually cares._ _

__“Nah, your ass is way nicer than my dad’s.”_ _

__Dan makes a face like he can’t believe what he’s just heard. “Never say that again.”_ _

__Phil covers his mouth sheepishly to stifle his laughter._ _

__Dan’s still not sure if Phil says this shit to make Dan laugh or if he just genuinely doesn’t think before he speaks. Either way, it’s one of his favourite things, though he tries to feign disdain. No one has ever made him laugh like Phil._ _

__He pulls Phil’s hand off his face and pecks the corner of his mouth. “Go make us some coffee, weirdo.”_ _

__-_ _

__“And how are you feeling about that?”_ _

__God. Therapy is bloody stupid. If he knew how he felt he wouldn’t be here, would he?_ _

__He shrugs, looking down at a loose thread in the throw pillow he’s got clutched in his lap. “Lots of stuff.”_ _

__“Conflicting feelings?” she asks._ _

__He nods._ _

__“But you said yes.”_ _

__“Yeah. I didn’t— I was tired of saying no.”_ _

__“Did you feel he’d be angry if you said no again?”_ _

__He shakes his head. “S’not like that. He knew why I was saying no before.”_ _

__“So what changed your mind?”_ _

__He looks at her helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I really did.”_ _

__“Do you want to tell him you made a mistake? That you’re not ready?”_ _

__Dan shakes his head. He doesn’t have to think about that one. “I wanna do it. I have from the beginning.”_ _

__She nods thoughtfully, head tilted to the side a little as she makes unflinching eye contact with him. It used to feel disconcerting to him, like she was boring into his soul and judging him deeply for his every answer._ _

__He’s mostly used to it now. It’s still not an experience he enjoys but he reckons it’s probably good for him to say this shit to a person who genuinely has no bias, who is legally obligated to listen to him._ _

__He thinks she’s good. She definitely listens, at least. She forces him to think about things, to redirect his thoughts in ways that he wouldn’t be able to do on his own._ _

__“But you still feel conflicted.”_ _

__Dan takes a breath and lets it out in a sigh. “I’m meant to be, like… retaining independence.”_ _

__“Right.” She shifts a little in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “So what makes you think that moving in with your partner equates to giving up your independence?”_ _

__“Because… There won’t be any space left. Like physically or otherwise.”_ _

__“You want space,” she says, not a question so much as a prompt._ _

__“I don’t _want_ space. But I think I need it.”_ _

__“Space is important, of course. In any relationship, romantic or otherwise.”_ _

__He nods, looking down at the pillow and picking at the thread. He waits for her to say something else, but she doesn’t._ _

__He looks up eventually and she’s just sat there, fingers wrapped around her mug of tea. She’s looking at him, waiting, like she knows he’s resisting putting words to all the thoughts he’s got knocking around in his brain._ _

__“I don’t want a repeat of last time,” Dan blurts._ _

__“With…”_ _

__“Liv. Olivia. Yeah.”_ _

__“You believe you lost your independence when you lived with her?”_ _

__Dan chews the corner of his lip and looks back down at the pillow while he bungles out an answer. “That’s probably not the right word. But like… there wasn’t space. I mean, she probably wanted space. But I didn’t. I wanted to be with her all the time.”_ _

__“And that was upsetting to you?”_ _

__“Not at the time. But when she left… yeah. I was a fucking— Sorry.”_ _

__She smiles and shakes her head. “Go on.”_ _

__“I was a mess.”_ _

__“Are you afraid of how you’ll feel if your relationship with Phil ends?”_ _

__Dan’s stomach tightens just hearing the words. He shrugs. “I mean. Yeah. But that’s not really… I wasn’t thinking about that. I just can’t lose sight of like… myself. What makes me feel like me.”_ _

__She nods thoughtfully. “That’s very important.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Dan says awkwardly. For some reason he always feels embarrassed when she says stuff like that, like it should be obvious. Like he shouldn’t be here because his ‘problems’ are so mundane that all it takes to solve them is common sense._ _

__“What do you think makes you feel like you?” she asks. “What are afraid of losing if you move in with Phil?”_ _

__He looks up at her and feels heat in his cheeks when he realizes he’s not sure he really has an answer. “Uh… I dunno.”_ _

__“I have some homework for you, then.” She stands up and grabs a small notebook and a pen off her desk and hands them to him. “Write this down.”_ _

__He nods, uncapping the pen and balancing the notebook atop the pillow._ _

__“I want you to make a list. Make a list of everything that’s important to you that is separate from your relationship. Everything you’d be afraid to lose sight of.”_ _

__He writes down her instructions even though he knows he won’t need the reminder._ _

__“I also want you to make a list of things that make you happy.”_ _

__He looks up._ _

__“It’s alright if there is overlap there,” she continues._ _

__“Does that have to be separate from Phil, too?”_ _

__“Absolutely not.”_ _

__-_ _

__He goes to the gym afterwards. It wasn’t a particularly emotional session but it always feels good to move his body and lose himself in physical betterment after living so intensely in his own thoughts for an hour._ _

__He mostly avoids the corner where all the meatheads congregate to lift heavy things, preferring instead to use the treadmill or the rowing machines or even endure the cruel and unusual agony of the stairmaster. There’s something cathartic about feeling likes he’s definitely going to keel over and die and then - not. It feels like an accomplishment, like conquering something._ _

__He likes leaving with a splotchy red face and his shirt soaked through with sweat. He snaps a very ugly selfie and texts it to his brother saying, _idk how you could possibly find this shit fun_._ _

__He doesn’t entirely mean it. It’s like death while it’s happening but as it turns out, the post-exercise rush of endorphins he’d always heard Adrian rave about is actually a real thing._ _

__It’s probably a waste of money he doesn’t really have to pay to use a treadmill when he could just go for a run outside and get some vitamin D at the same time, but he reckons the guilt of the splurge is the thing that keeps him at it consistently._ _

__In another life it wouldn’t be a big deal. In the life he had before he could have afforded it without having to think. But that’s his old life, and the one he has now means he’s mostly skint. He’d gone through what he’d saved at his law job and now he’s living on his minimum wage bookstore earnings and the fairly small adsense they get from the gaming channel._ _

__Phil says eventually they’ll make more. It takes time to build up an audience after all, and not everyone wants to watch boyfriends playing video games on the internet._ _

__Phil didn’t actually say that last bit, but Dan knows it’s true, and he reckons Phil does too. He did lose a fair chunk of his subscribers in the aftermath of that liveshow after all. Dan doesn’t like to think about it._ _

__Phil said he didn’t care. He said being free to live out loud was worth whatever was going to happen. He’s carried on with the fans that are left, and they love him all the more for being brave and open with them. Dan couldn’t be more proud, and Phil is happy with his channel in a way he says he hasn’t been in years._ _

__And he still has money. Even if it all went away tomorrow, Phil would still have money._ _

__But Dan doesn’t, and for him the distinction is important. Phil would pay for everything if Dan let him, but it’s one of the lines Dan had to draw early on, an important part of trying not to mould himself to fit into Phil’s life while abandoning his own._ _

__He wonders if he’s still allowed to do that once they’re living together. Where is the line between healthy togetherness and the toxicity he ended up fostering between himself and Liv?_ _

__He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and touches the paper on which he’d scribbled his therapist’s instructions. Maybe the answer lies in whatever ends up written on those lists._ _

__-_ _

__He goes back to the flat he still calls his and has his second shower of the day. Once he’s dry and dressed and his houseplant is watered he goes back to Phil’s and opens the door without knocking - he never knocks. The flat smells like food and Phil is sat on the sofa with his laptop open on his thighs._ _

__“Hide your porn,” Dan says as he shuts the door behind him and kicks off his trainers._ _

__Phil turns his macbook around to show Dan the google doc he’s writing in._ _

__“Oh. Well… could still be porn, technically.”_ _

__Phil smirks. “Well it’s not, Mr Tentacles.”_ _

__“That was _one_ time,” Dan says defensively. “If no one else is gonna write it for me I’m forced to take matters into my own hands, aren’t I?”_ _

__Phil just shakes his head and snickers, turning his computer back around. He’s obviously never going to let Dan live that one down._ _

__Dan flops down next to him and tucks his legs up. “I went to therapy _and_ the gym, where’s my medal?”_ _

__“I’m making you food, is that good enough?”_ _

__Dan reaches out and very gently shuts the lid of Phil’s laptop. “Mm, nope, don’t think so.” He picks the computer up and puts it on the coffee table, then climbs into Phil’s lap to straddle him._ _

__Phil puts his hands on Dan’s thighs and squeezes. “You’re like a bloody rabbit, you are.”_ _

__Dan spreads his legs a little wider and loops his arms around he back of Phil’s neck. “Working out makes me horny, sorry.”_ _

__“No sorry.” Phil slips a hand up under Dan’s shirt. “Wasn’t complaining. Although the food’s gonna burn if you’re not quick.”_ _

__Dan smiles. “I can be quick.” He leans down and catches Phil’s mouth with his, licking up gently against the inside of Phil’s upper lip. “Can you?”_ _

__Phil retaliates by biting down on Dan’s lip and sliding his hand down into Dan’s pants. “Depends.”_ _

__“On what?” He drops his head onto Phil’s shoulder and turns so his face is pressed again his neck. He smells like shaving foam still, and a little like sweat. He obviously hadn’t showered while Dan was out._ _

__Dan loves it. It’s probably gross but the smell of Phil’s sweat evokes some kind of filthy nostalgia for their early days, when the sun was blazing hot and the air was thick and Phil was slowly bringing Dan back to life._ _

__“On whether you actually _want_ me to be quick, or whether you want me to turn off the stove,” Phil says._ _

__Dan hops off his lap immediately. Phil turns off the stove._ _

__Neither of them are quick._ _

__-_ _

__“What makes me me?” he asks later, when the sex has been had and the food has been eaten and they’ve filmed a video of themselves playing Mortal Kombat in which Dan laughed so hard he cried._ _

__They’re lying in Phil’s bed now. Phil is scrolling Twitter on his phone and Dan is watching him do it, trying not to overthink things and having absolutely no luck with it._ _

__Phil puts his phone down. “What?”_ _

__“Like, what is a Dan thing?”_ _

__“Umm… you have a cute butt.”_ _

__Dan punches him. “I’m serious.”_ _

__Phil’s still laughing as he settles down with his head on the pillow and looks at Dan. “What’s up? Where is this coming from?”_ _

__“Therapy, kind of.”_ _

__“And the moving thing?” Phil asks._ _

__Dan looks at him with a slight frown of disbelief. “How could you possibly know that?”_ _

__He shrugs. “Reckon you’re freaking out about it right now. It’d be weirder if it _wasn’_ about that.”_ _

__“I’m not _freaking out_ ,” Dan says. “I’m trying to—”_ _

__“I know,” Phil interrupts. “I know.”_ _

__“Are you cross?” Dan asks quietly._ _

__“No.”_ _

__Dan’s stomach tightens. “You are, though.”_ _

__Phil stretches his leg out and pushes his calf in between Dan’s. “I’m not cross. I just really want you to live with me. Or… I want us to live together. That’s a better way to put it.”_ _

__“I want that too. We’re doing that.”_ _

__“Not if it’s literally keeping you up at night.”_ _

__Dan sighs. He’s frustrated. Not at Phil, but at himself. “Look, it’s— It’s me, yeah? I’m a mess.”_ _

__“No you’re not.”_ _

__“Right,” Dan says. “But when you met me I definitely was. Not even you could argue with that.”_ _

__“You were hurting,” Phil says gently._ _

__“I’m trying to prevent that from happening again. And also from making you hurt.”_ _

__“You being around more doesn’t hurt me.”_ _

__“You know what I mean, Phil.” His voice is soft but there’s a hint of reproach. He hasn’t made a secret of his fears, or the mistakes he made with Liv._ _

__“I wouldn’t do what she did,” Phil says, pulling Dan closer. “We can get through anything.”_ _

__Dan buries his face in Phil’s neck. The urge to melt into his comfort and the safety of his words is overwhelming. He wants to believe it can be that simple, that he can let his guard down and everything will work out effortlessly. Phil makes it sound so easy._ _

__Dan _knows_ it’s not that easy. _ _

__“We can,” he says. “But I don’t want to create a situation where we have to.”_ _

__“So what are you saying?” Phil asks. “Did you change your mind?”_ _

__“No. I just don’t want to lose myself.”_ _

__“So you’re thinking about who ‘yourself’ is?”_ _

__Dan nods, tilting his head back so he can look at Phil’s face._ _

__His face set deep in thought now._ _

__“It’s not a trick question,” Dan says quietly. “There’s no wrong answer.”_ _

__“I think you trying to better yourself is a Dan thing,” Phil says in response. “You’re always working on yourself.”_ _

__Dan scrunches up his nose. “That makes me sound like a narcissistic asshole.”_ _

__“No it doesn’t. It’s good. Maybe a Dan thing is that… you learn from your mistakes. Or, not mistakes but like… I dunno. You know what I’m saying.”_ _

__“I’m good at fucking up,” Dan agrees._ _

__“Oh shut up.” Phil reaches a hand between them to pinch at Dan’s side. “Don’t twist my words.”_ _

__Dan squeaks and pushes Phil’s hand away. “Ok, ok,” he concedes. “You’re saying I’m good at personal growth. Or trying for it anyway.”_ _

__“Yes,” Phil says. “You’re also way too quick to self deprecate. That’s a very Dan thing as well.”_ _

__Dan snorts. “Don’t think there’s any danger of losing sight of that one.”_ _

__Phil ignores him. “You’re creative.”_ _

__“Oh.” He hadn’t been expecting that. “I am?”_ _

__Phil nods. “I think you feel better when you’re making something. Like, I think it makes you feel good.”_ _

__Dan frowns. “I don’t make anything, though.”_ _

__“You do. You make videos.”_ _

__Dan’s heart sinks. “I don’t. You do. That’s my whole point here. I need things that are about me, not just me attaching myself to Phil things.”_ _

__“It’s not about me,” Phil says. “I think you like filming with me. Like obviously gaming together is fun, but I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the concepts for the videos and the editing and the way it makes you so happy to read people comments.”_ _

__“Does that count as creating, though?” Dan asks. “It’s not like your videos. It’s not hard to just… play video games.”_ _

__“Of course it counts. It’s a lot more than just playing games. We do that all the time on our own. Editing videos takes a lot of time and effort and you’re already getting so good at it.”_ _

__Dan hides his face again. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” he mutters sheepishly. Phil’s fingers thread into his hair and massage his scalp gently._ _

__“I know,” Phil says softly. “My point is that I think that’s a Dan thing that maybe you didn’t realize was a Dan thing. Even that tentacle thing—”_ _

__“Phil!” Dan shrieks, shoving him away._ _

__“I’m serious!” Phil shrieks back. “You said so yourself, you had to take things into your own hands!”_ _

__“Ugh, fuck off.”_ _

__“Not everyone would do that,” Phil persists. “Not everyone has that instinct.”_ _

__Dan is quiet for a while. “If I ever had that, I definitely lost it with her.”_ _

__Phil pulls Dan back to his chest and squeezes him tightly. “It’s ok,” he whispers. “We won’t let that happen again. _You_ won't.”_ _

__“But what if that’s a Dan thing?” he whispers. “Attaching myself to creative people and leeching until they can’t stand my dead weight?”_ _

__“Hey,” Phil says firmly, pulling Dan back enough so they can look into each other’s eyes. “It’s not.”_ _

__Dan can’t honestly say he’s convinced that Phil isn’t wrong about that, but he reckons all he can do is try his fucking hardest to prove him right._ _

__-_ _

__He rings his mum the next day, when Phil’s gone out to meet Martyn for lunch. He’s sat on the inside ledge of the window in his flat, baking in the late summer sun than streams though the dirty glass. It’s been a while since he spent any real time in here, but the clock is ticking on enjoying this particular view of the people pounding the pavement and the cars driving by on the street below. It’s the one thing he ever enjoyed about this apartment and maybe he’s going to miss it just a little bit._ _

__“Mum,” he says when she answers the phone._ _

__“Son.”_ _

__“What makes me happy?”_ _

__“What?” She sounds distracted, as she always does when he rings her without warning._ _

__He looks down at his thumb and the hangnail that’s just begging to be bitten off. “It’s a simple enough question.”_ _

__“One you should know the answer to better than me, no?” she says, clearly unimpressed by his snark._ _

__“Yeah but I’m… I’m trying to prove a point to myself.”_ _

__“What point?”_ _

__“If I told you it wouldn’t work, mother.”_ _

__She sighs the long suffering kind of sigh he’s been hearing from her since he was old enough to form memories. “I’m too busy for this right now, Daniel.”_ _

__“Just…” He trails off. “Ok. Sorry.”_ _

__“What is going on?”_ _

__Dan’s thumb has found its way between his teeth without his permission, like it has a mind of its own. He rips the hangnail off and winces. The pain serves to clear his mind a little and he blurts, “Phil asked me to move in with him.”_ _

__“Didn’t you say he does that every day?”_ _

__“Yeah, but this time I said yes.”_ _

__“Oh, well.” She sounds like she couldn’t possibly care less. “About time I guess, eh?”_ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__“I mean, you lot are basically inseparable aren’t you? I’m surprised it didn’t happen ages ago.”_ _

__Dan pinches the bridge of his nose. He loves her, but honestly. Sometimes he wishes she’d be a little less honest._ _

__“Mum.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__She’s definitely distracted. He can hear people talking in the background._ _

__“You know I was fucked up after Liv, right?”_ _

__“Jesus, Dan. Good thing I don’t have you on speakerphone.”_ _

__“Should I ring you later?” he asks. “Actually, you know what, nevermind. This isn’t impo—”_ _

__“No. I’m listening. I hear you.”_ _

__“It doesn’t matter,” he says petulantly._ _

__“You think living with Olivia was the problem?” she asks bluntly._ _

__“Um. I dunno.”_ _

__“Phil isn’t Liv. And you aren’t a kid anymore, Daniel.”_ _

__“I know.”_ _

__“To tell you the truth I think what makes you happy is Phil.”_ _

__“That’s… kind of what I’m afraid of,” he says._ _

__“Why? That’s what love is.”_ _

__“But how do I know where to, like… draw the line?”_ _

__“I mean, you know I’m no expert here,” she says. “But I think you’re doing a pretty good job. Every time I visit you two I get sickened by how sweet you are together.”_ _

__“Shut up,” he mutters._ _

__“It’s true. So don’t screw it up by being an idiot, ok? That’s my advice.”_ _

__“Wow, mum.”_ _

__“I say it with the utmost of love, darling. Move in with Phil and be happy. You’ve earned it.”_ _

__-_ _

__Dan’s sat on Phil’s sofa editing the Mortal Kombat video when Phil returns from seeing his brother._ _

__“I had a thought,” Phil says as greeting before here even gotten the door shut._ _

__Dan saves his progress and shuts the computer. “Uh oh.”_ _

__Phil toes off his shoes and bounds over excitedly to join Dan on the couch. “Instead of you moving in with me, what if we moved in together?”_ _

__Dan frowns, lifting his arm for Phi to slip his shoulders under. “Isn’t that just semantics?”_ _

__“No. We’re gonna start fresh and get an entirely new place. We’ll choose it together. We can get all new stuff.”_ _

__“I like our stuff.”_ _

__Phil smiles. “Ok, good. I do too. But I’m not attached to this building, or even this neighbourhood. I just want to do whatever makes this feel like something exciting and not scary.”_ _

__“You know I’m not scared to live with you, right?” Dan asks. “You know that.”_ _

__Phil shrugs. “I think you are, but I also get it. It’s a big step. I know that. I know I know you’re worried it’ll be like last time.”_ _

__“Yeah. But this time isn’t that time.”_ _

__“It’s not,” Phil agrees._ _

__He’s smiling. Dan thinks they’re both feeling some kind of profundity in this moment, something clicking into place in Dan’s brain. It’s an important moment and they both know it._ _

__“You’re not her. And I’m not me.”_ _

__Phil frowns his confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. In a rare show of patience for which Dan could marry him on the spot, Phil waits. He waits for Dan to get his thoughts together._ _

__“I’m not the me I was then,” Dan says._ _

__“You are. You’re still Dan. You’re always Dan. You’re just a Dan who knows more about himself.”_ _

__“I’m also a Dan who has the best fucking boyfriend in the world.”_ _

__Phil smirks. “Can’t argue with that.”_ _

__“And I _am_ excited. I’m fucking… chuffed as beans.”_ _

__Phil grins. “So you like my idea?”_ _

__Dan nods. “Still not gonna let you choose some bougie-ass place, though, if that was your secret goal here. Still has to be somewhere I can afford my half of the rent.”_ _

__Phil rolls his eyes. “Fine.”_ _

__“My mum says we make her sick with our cuteness.”_ _

__Phil laughs and nuzzles up under Dan’s chin as if to prove her point. “Corny says the same.”_ _

__Dan leans forward and grabs his computer back up while keeping a firm grip on Phil’s shoulders._ _

__“What’re you doing?” Phil asks._ _

__“We’re looking for our new place. Duh.”_ _


End file.
